


The Sentimental Education of Mr. Lee

by moonymindpalace



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Aristocracy, Arranged Marriage, As in: Arranged by Themselves, Childhood Friends, Edwardian Period, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Polyamory, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24126397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonymindpalace/pseuds/moonymindpalace
Summary: In an idyllic estate on the countryside, Jeno grew up constricted by the traditions and expectations forced on him as the son of a baronet. Now freshly turned 20 and under his father's constant pressure, he must gather the courage to propose to his childhood sweetheart Renjun and save his family's propriety, until Renjun's best friend Jaemin arrives and confuses both his plans and emotions.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, background Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 46
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as a light bit of fun for me, imagining NCT in the stiff upper-class of the early 20th century. The Alpha/Omega dynamics are here mostly because they support a very restricting form of society, and as you'll see, gender and family roles play a big part on the plot.
> 
> There are both male and female alphas and omegas, and while alphas control the public aspects of society (politics, economy, the land), omegas control private matters (family, marriage, children, and education). I just threw the werewolf lore out of the window for this, sorry.
> 
> As usual, thank you Marina for being a consistently supportive beta 💚

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeno has a crisis prompted by his cousin Mark getting engaged, discovers heartbreak and family secrets, and is proposed something out of the ordinary.

Jeno’s father was already seated when he got to the dining room. Self-conscious, he tried to fix his tie, but his tutor Mr. Moon gave him a look and he sat down hurriedly. The servants brought the tea, then the rest of the food, as was the custom from when his mum was still alive.

“When are you proposing to Renjun?” Sir Doyoung asked out of the blue. Jeno froze with a piece of toast on his hand, mouth hanging unattractively open.

“There was a letter from your uncle’s this morning, your cousin Mark is engaged,” Mr. Moon supplied, face blank. From his impassive demeanour Jeno guessed Mark had chosen Donghyuck, Mr. Moon's second cousin once removed, and relaxed a little because Donghyuck was fun, even if a little mean.

Their family’s hurry to marry them off had less to do with custom and more with money, not that they talked about it, at least not around his grandfather, who didn’t seem to realise his title wasn’t enough to pay the huge inheritance tax coming their way. Renjun was Jeno’s best opportunity: same age as him, well educated, his mother was the daughter of an Earl and his father had enough money to buy all their estates. Of course, it would be better if he had some aristocratic blood on his father’s side too, but they couldn’t afford to be picky in a situation like that.

On top of that, Jeno had been in love with him for years.

*

Feeling pressured, Jeno left the house with his favourite horse, headed for the clearing in the park he’d claimed as his sanctuary since childhood. His father knew where it was but had always respected his privacy, as had Mr. Moon. The smell of moss and wet grass was always bittersweet, the wind carrying the sounds and smells from the rest of the woods to his nose, making his senses tingle. His favourite spot was by a huge tree where he could tie the horse and sit on the branches.

When the sun was high, he heard a rustle and spotted Renjun walking towards the tree.

“I went looking for you, but Mr. Moon said you were here”, he said, sitting by the bark because he was afraid of heights. Jeno nodded silently. “Oh, you’re brooding! Is your rut coming up? ”

Jeno blushed. He was raised believing bodily functions shouldn’t be talked about in public. Renjun, being a foreigner and a progressive omega on top of that, had no such reservations.

“No! I’m just thinking… My uncle announced Mark’s engagement today.”

“Hyuck sent me a letter about it, too. I hope they don’t wait too long for the wedding or Jaemin will miss it.”

“What?”

Jaemin was Renjun’s extensively mentioned but never seen childhood friend. They used to live next to each other, they shared secrets, they built blanket forts and were allowed to stay the night at each other’s houses, everything Jeno dreamed of but could never have because of his alpha status. Unless, of course, he went ahead and proposed.

“Jaemin is coming here next week! He’s staying for a couple of months with us! Jeno, we’re going to have so much fun! I’m sure you’ll love him, just don’t join him on teasing me!”

“I’d never tease you, your most majestic grace!”

Renjun laughed, making Jeno’s heart skip. It was one of their oldest jokes, how Renjun’s bossy nature managed to put sense even in the (then) super spoiled brat Jeno was.

“But what’s bothering you about the engagement? Don’t even pretend to be fine, I know all your faces.”

Jeno thought hard if he should lie or get down from the tree and confess his love. In the end he settled for middle ground.

“My dad wants me to get engaged soon, now.”

“Oh. Are you planning something?”

“I don’t– I’m not sure, I mean, he’s so sure about what I should do, but I– this isn’t easy.”

Renjun nodded, eyes on the ground, which made Jeno lose his train of thought.

“And I don’t have anyone to talk about it, Mark has his life figured out for him and you’re an omega and there’s a lot of other stuff going on, it’s scary because there’s so much on the line”, he paused, worried he had said too much. “How are your parents going about this?”

“They don’t say much. Chenle found out from Mr. Qian the three of them have some bet going on that has to do with me getting engaged, but apart from that there’s nothing. Chenle thinks it’d be cool if I broke protocol and proposed, but I’m not sure. I don’t want to– read things wrong and overstep, you know? Because I have the right to decline a proposal, but an alpha doesn’t .”

Jeno stayed silent and Renjun looked up at him, head tilting to the side. He was caught up on Renjun apparently already having someone – an alpha – in his mind, heart beating fast with the possibility of this alpha being him.

“Jeno.”

“What?”

“Come down, I came all the way over here to see you, not the leaves covering your face.”

*

A week later Jeno discovered he was very glad he hadn’t acted on impulse and confessed to Renjun. The Huang household was a sprawling manor by the lake and for Jaemin’s welcome party they had strewn lights all around the water, leading up the stairs to the ballroom.

Chenle, Renjun’s younger brother, had been the one to greet Jeno, pulling him excitedly over to where Jisung, Jaemin’s brother, stood. Jisung was around the same age as Chenle, still a couple of years off presenting, his features soft and shy. He was going to be tall, if at the age of fourteen he already reached Jeno’s height, but that wasn’t a guarantee he was an alpha.

A man in a deep red suit approached them and it was only when Jisung slapped away his hand and whined about the people looking at them weird that Jeno realised his mistake. The man, as tall as Jeno but standing a little taller in his heeled boots, had a wide smile, long, elegant hands and was undoubtedly an alpha and undoubtedly Jaemin. Jaemin, who Jeno, up until now, had been under the impression was an omega .

“You’re _Jeno_?! Injun talks so much about you! I feel like we know each other already, he’s always talking about what you do together.”

“Not as much as he talks about you, though,” he said, holding off his confusion and embarrassment to accept the handshake like a well-bred gentleman.

“Really? Injunnie! Jeno says you talk a lot about me!” Jaemin practically yelled across the room and Renjun, in a glorious blue suit, materialised beside him.

“Don’t act like that, you’re frightening Jeno. And of course I talk about you, you’re my best friend, you show off.”

They smiled blindingly at each other, dazzling Jeno.

“Jeno?”

“Right, sorry, it’s just–”, he turned to Renjun, “you never told me Jaemin was an alpha.”

“It’s because he’s in denial,” Jaemin interjected before Renjun could open his mouth. “It’s been like this for years, everybody though I was an omega and now Injun feels betrayed and left me for Donghyuck because at least he has news about planning a wedding and I’m just a big boring alpha being forced to go to college .”

“That’s not true!”

Renjun slapped Jaemin’s arm, pouting. Jeno was mesmerised.

“Renjun, you’re pouting. You say you never pout because it’s childish, but you’re _pouting_!”

Jaemin crackled loudly, arms going around Renjun’s shoulders.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he? What do you think of the suit?”

Still pouting, Renjun stared at the floor while Jeno chuckled.

“It’s gorgeous. Blue is Renjun’s best colour.”

“See, I told you. He wanted to wear a red one, and I said–”

“I wanted the red one because it matches yours.”

Jeno’s stomach dropped. The way they looked at each other was so sweet it bordered on obscene, Jaemin’s face softening and Renjun’s glowing like summer had come early. There were no doubts then, the alpha Renjun was hesitant about was Jaemin.

*

He tried his best to behave normally and hide his broken heart until Mr. Moon – of course Mr. Moon – found him in the library and hugged him out of nowhere. It was like flipping a switch, Jeno couldn’t stop the tears flooding his eyes, no matter how much he told himself people like him were not meant to sob like babies on their tutor’s lap, but Mr. Moon just petted his hair and rocked him back and forth.

“What happened at the party? You went over just fine and came back miserable.”

“Renjun’s in love with his friend Jaemin.”

“He told you?”

“No”, Jeno sobbed some more, the perfect picture they made floating back to his mind's eye. “He said he was interested in an alpha and I thought, oh, it could be me! But the way they look at each other, Moony!” he cried the old nickname he used to tease his tutor back when he was a child and Taeil had come to love, “Moony, they’re so in love with each other.”

“Oh, darling. I know it hurts. I know,” Mr. Moon rested his head on top of Jeno’s. Their relationship had been awful at first, Jeno was too young, spoiled and hurt by his mother’s passing to understand why Sir Doyoung wanted him to have a tutor. With time and patience – from Mr. Moon’s side of course – they had come to be what his father intended, so Taeil was his teacher, of course, but also his confident and supporter, an omega presence to guide him.

“I don’t even care about what father’s going to say,” Jeno whispered in a bout of temper, “I just wanted him to like me!”

“We could arrange for you to stay with Sir John in the city for the season, what do you think? It’ll take your mind off this and give you new opportunities.”

Sir John was one of his uncles from his mother’s side, still unmarried, probably because he spent all his time and money travelling . Jeno liked him a lot but doubted being away in a flurry of parties and horse races would mend his heart.

“I don’t think I’ll fall out of love looking at Uncle John’s stamp collection for three months.”

“Fine, maybe not the whole season. What about two weeks? Just enough for you to rest your feelings, have some time to think, you know John will take good care of you.”

*

His father was amendable enough about his off days, unlike Renjun, who almost threw a fit.

“It’s _almost summer_ and you’re leaving for the city? What sort of nonsense is this? And out of the blue? Is your uncle _mad_?”

“It’s just for a few days, you won’t even notice, besides, Jaemin is here to keep you company.”

“Exactly! With Jaemin here I had planned a lot of stuff for the three of us to do!”

“Your heat is really close, isn’t it?” Jaemin – who was perusing Jeno’s old study room like he owned the place – asked, and Jeno blushed furiously, shocked an alpha was able talk bluntly about an omega's privacy like that. 

“Maybe,” Renjun mumbled, “but it has not–”

“If it’s close you should be resting,” Jeno said, more like whispered, alarmed.

“Resting?” both Renjun and Jaemin asked. Jeno chose to focus on Jaemin, who at least could help him win over Renjun’s stubbornness.

“The doctor prescribed him bed rest for the week before, uh, the heat. He was coming out of them too weak.”

Jaemin frowned, looking incredibly ominous doing it. He had the manners and the posture of an old lord and always looked way more authoritative than Jeno.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“Because it’s bullsh– it’s nothing! My mum was exaggerating”, Renjun replied trying to sound composed while his voice raised, exasperated. His heat was probably _very_ close, Jeno could tell from how sensitive he had been since the beginning of the week.

“She really wasn’t, you lost so much weight even strangers thought you were sick.”

“Injun, seriously, you need to learn to take care of yourself!” Jaemin chided, tapping his foot. “And to communicate, too.”

Renjun moved around in his seat, ears red. Right now, he looked gorgeous, skin glowing, smiling easily, eyes bright, but Jeno knew if he didn’t at least try to rest, when he came back from the city, he’d find Renjun pale, drawn and miserable.

“Let’s make a deal: if you go to bed today and stay there until it’s all over, when I come back we can do every single activity you planned and I’ll even help you set up the painting studio on the roof.”

Heart breaking a little more, Jeno smiled at Renjun, who finally seemed convinced. He’d regret this later, to some extent, but never enough to stop him from doing anything he could to assure Renjun’s health, even if all his beautiful glow was destined to bless Jaemin’s days instead of his own.

*

The next day he committed to packing for his two weeks with Uncle John, Mr. Moon helping him remember the dress code for every single club his uncle was part of, what was in style in the city, what types of hat he would need.

A little after lunch, when Jeno was picking which tie pins matched his shirts, a servant knocked and introduced none other than Jaemin in the room.

He was wearing riding clothes, all tight around his broad shoulders and long legs, again showing off an elegance Jeno envied from the bottom of his wrecked heart.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Injun fell asleep after lunch, I thought it was a time as good as any to come and talk to you.”

Jeno sat behind his desk, the tie pins still in front of him, facing Jaemin who was on the armchair.

“Talk about what?”

“I need to thank you for caring so much about Injun.”

“It’s nothing, I’m sure you would’ve done a better job.”

Jaemin shook his head.

“I also need to ask you what’s wrong. Your uncle didn’t ask for you, did he? I know a getaway when I see one, and you’re clearly running from something.”

Jeno considered denying, even if he was a bad liar. He thought of twisting his words and telling some half facts. In the end what came out of his mouth was pure, unadulterated truth.

“I’m trying to get over Renjun.”

Jaemin looked at him, head tilted to the side the same way Renjun did when he was puzzled.

“Why would you get over him?”

“Because he’s in love with you?”

“No, he’s not!”

“Look, the week before you arrived, we were talking, right, in the woods, and he said he was just waiting for you to propose.”

“For _me_? Are you sure?”

“I mean, he looks at you like you’re his whole world, Jaemin. Back at the party, Renjun was absolutely glowing, all because he was with you again. If I had any doubts they are long gone.”

“But…” Jaemin shook his head, crossing and uncrossing his long legs. “You should see the letters, the way he talks about you,” he laughed, “even I am half in love with you after all these years.”

There was something off about his voice by the end of the sentence, only Jeno didn’t know him enough to understand exactly what.

“I’m sure, Jaemin. You should propose, or at least signal something. He’s just waiting for you.”

Jaemin sighed and shook his head again. Jeno looked down at the desk.

“Choose the green enamel one”, said Jaemin, motioning at the pins.

“I don’t have a shirt to go with it.”

“Wear it on black, it’ll look good on you. Injun told me you’re a very good horseman.”

“Don’t know about the very good part, I’m decent.”

“Care to join me?”

Jeno was surprised. That far, he’d seen Jaemin as a boisterous, loudly caring and expressive guy. As they rode through the park in silence, he started to see a nuance of his personality. He looked as good on a horse as he looked on the ground, with a grace Jeno had never seen in an alpha, even the most refined ones like his uncle John still a little too blunt to be graceful.

“When you said you knew a getaway when you saw one… was it from personal experience?”

He knew Jaemin had heard him, but the silence lingered for quite some time. Their horses clomped on the soft dirt path, the gates to the woods long behind them.

“I’ll trust you because Injun does, but you have to promise not to think of me any differently after I tell you.”

“I promise,” Jeno said wholeheartedly.

“My parents sent me over here because they found out I had become involved with someone they didn’t approve of. Because… because she’s an alpha like me. ”

Jeno kept his hands steady, guiding them deeper into the park. Jaemin’s breath sounded short.

“It wasn’t anything serious, you see,” he continued. “But they panicked. My dad blames himself, he thinks he raised me wrong since he’s an omega, that I grew up with the wrong references. But that’s not it, I don’t see people’s gender, I see if I like them.”

“Do you like this alpha girl?”

“Not romantically, we were colleagues, so it was just some messing around.”

“And Renjun?”

“He knows, I mean, not the _details_ , but he knows why I’m here.”

Jeno was surprised at himself he didn’t blush at the sly mention of _details_. Instead, he felt a little lightheaded.

“I think it’s sad society has so many rules about how we interact with one another,” he said. They were nearly back at the house, the path now made from stones, Jaemin’s horse in sync with his. “Do you ever wish you could change the way you feel?”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t.”

“No. No matter how pretty your county is, Mr. Lee,” Jaemin smiled, profile stark against the setting sun over the garden, “it can’t grow me a new heart.”

*

The first week in the city was, just like Mr. Moon predicted, uneventful. Uncle John had a friend over, and Jeno just followed them along to the clubs, thankfully well-dressed but completely uninterested as he digested everything he’d learnt in the past month or so.

By Saturday the post brought him two letters, the first from Renjun:

“ _Jeno,_

_It feels boring in here without you, even if you are boring. Jaemin is being quiet so I have decided to draw him. I wanted to draw you as well, but I hate modelling from photographs, and besides, yours are all so stiff, you’re always wearing a hat and looking too serious, so we can’t even see your pretty eye smile_ _._

_I hope the city is fun and Sir John is in good health. Tell him Chenle sends his regards and wants him to visit again soon. Please ask him if he’s coming to Mark and Donghyuck’s wedding, Sir Taeyong told mum the ceremony is in early August, which worried me, but Jaemin told me he’ll still be here._

_I miss you very much, and hope you’re feeling well._

_Yours,_

_Renjun_ ”

The general mood of the letter surprised Jeno, way mellower than Renjun usually was. But then again, by the date at the top, it had been written when Renjun was in heat, so it was expected for him to be more emotional.

The second letter was, surprisingly, from Jaemin:

“ _Dear Mr. Lee,_

_Hope this letter finds you and your uncle in good health. Renjun’s heat has come and gone, and to my relief he is apparently fine, not overtired or sickly in any way. This still worries me deeply, especially because he didn’t tell me about it, something he’d never done before._

_He spent the whole week drawing me in his room and complaining about your absence. Since he presented, I only saw Renjun twice and now I can see he became an incredible omega, which makes me very proud. I still believe he loves you, but I won’t stay on this subject for long as none of us has material proof to back up our arguments, anyway._

_I was formally invited to your cousin’s wedding and look forward to it. Sir Taeyong is a most wonderful man. I have also met the infamous Donghyuck: we’re very privileged to have great omegas around to overpower us and render us useless pieces of societal action. But I digress._

_Have fun, and if you go to the races spare a thought for me, it was my childhood dream to be a jockey, but sadly my mother’s priorities were elsewhere._

_Best regards,_

_Jaemin_ ”

Puzzled, Jeno left the letters to be answered the next day. That afternoon they were attending a race, then a party in the evening. Already dressed he went downstairs to ask his uncle about what hat he thought was appropriate for both occasions, only to find him in the study with his friend from Thailand, Mr. Ten .

They seemed to be talking about something serious, so Jeno knocked softly on the door frame.

“Come on in, Jen.”

Mr. Ten smiled at him while Sir John turned around to put something back on his desk. Jeno had never met Mr. Ten before but felt very comfortable around him with his easy voice and clever quips that reminded him of Renjun.

“I was wondering if you could help me choose a hat.”

To his surprise Mr. Ten was the one to stand up. They went back upstairs, where Mr. Ten deemed his plain black satin top hat decent, then Jeno waited while he got his own coat and hat. Sir John was still in the study, strangely sombre.

“John, come on, we’ll be late.”

“I’m still not sure if we should go.”

Mr. Ten shuffled on his spot, then rang the bell to call the butler.

“Love , I told you it’s alright, it’s just one afternoon. Look, Kim will get your coat and we’ll enjoy the races. If you’re still unsure later we just come back home and order dinner in, what do you think?”

Jeno watched, mesmerised, as his uncle nodded and followed them, hand wrapped around Mr. Ten's wrist. The whole ride to the Derby was silent, Jeno burning with curiosity about what made this mysterious friend have so much power over his most independent uncle .

That night Sir John retired right after dinner, which they had at home. Jeno went up to wash up before bed. He couldn’t stop overthinking the whole day, wondering and obsessing over every detail. Giving up he went to the library, where his uncle usually spent the evening drinking scotch, but upon opening the door he found Mr. Ten, alone with a wine bottle.

“Sorry, I was looking for Uncle John.”

“He’s already in bed,” Mr. Ten sighed. “You must be wondering why we skipped the party at Lord Jung's.”

“Can’t deny I am, I never saw uncle act like this.”

Mr. Ten beckoned him closer, so Jeno sat down on the empty armchair by the fire.

“I think it’s time we talk about this like grown men,” Mr. Ten said, pouring Jeno a glass of wine. It was one of the Bordeaux Sir John kept under lock in the cellar. “Especially because you’re John’s heir.”

Jeno felt his eyes bulging.

“I'm _what_?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Doyoung never told you this?”

“This can’t be, Uncle John isn’t even married yet, how does he know he’s not having any children?” he asked, alarmed.

“You see, Jeno, that’s exactly the problem. Your uncle _is_ already married,” Mr. Ten said and sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. “To me .”

“Uh? Sorry, but how? I mean, sorry! That was rude. Alright,” he took a deep breath, and at least Mr. Ten looked amused. “How can you two be married if you’re both alphas ?”

“To put it simply, my country allows two people of the same gender to marry one another, while sadly this country doesn’t recognize the union. Me and John have been together for about ten years now, we live in each other’s pockets, but I rarely come here because I know people will be hostile and upset him. That’s what happened today. Lord Jung, who’s a Member of Parliament, made some very prejudiced comments at yesterday’s session about people who, I quote here, flee their homeland to perform wretched unholy unions.”

Jeno’s head was spinning while he organised a hundred pieces of information he’d gathered over the years, about Sir John being abroad most of the time, showing no interest in any omegas, then being so attached to Jeno, calling him to the city at least once a year. He felt upset too, for Sir John and Mr. Ten’s sake.

“That’s very unfair, Uncle John employs a lot of people in the company, jobs are not the easiest thing to find now, so I believe that _is_ standing for the country, or at least for many families. And he’s never abandoned us, he travels frequently, which makes sense now since it’s to where you live.” He took a sip from the wine, looking at the fire. “Besides, marriage is a home affair, people out of the family have nothing to do with who my uncle chooses to be with.”

“That’s correct. And since you’re family, what do you think about this, Jeno?”

He though back of Jaemin, of not seeing people for their gender but for their personalities. He wished all the time he hadn’t been brought up so conservatively, every time Renjun was so inherently open about gender differences and civil rights, every time he relived the sadness of Uncle Jeffrey’s divorce the year before. All he wished was for people to be decent with one another.

“I think I don’t know you enough to make a judgement… It has nothing to do with your gender, it’s just my uncle is very important to me and I want him to be happy the way he deserves to.”

“When John said you were his favourite person, I always thought he was just biased but you are, in fact, a very put together young man. Your father must be proud.”

“I try to make him proud but don’t have a high success rate this far.”

Mr. Ten looked like he was about to ask for details on the matter so Jeno waved him off. He had more important things on his mind.

“This friend of mine…” he started, a little hesitant to call Jaemin his friend. “He’s an alpha. He, uh, had an affair with a colleague… also an alpha. Now his parents sent him to the countryside for the season to keep them apart.”

“Yes, the situation is far more common than we think.”

“Can I tell him about you? He was awfully sad when I left, and he’s a good person.”

“I think so. John doesn’t hide me from anyone, and I don’t mind being some example to a lost soul. As long as he’s responsible.”

Jeno wondered if Jaemin was what adults would call “responsible”, not knowing him well enough to attest. But something told him he was more on the reckless side.

*

Sir John went with him to the station when the day to return home came. They had talked many times during that week, about Jeno’s future and Sir John and Mr. Ten's relationship.

“Do you feel any better about Renjun?”

Jeno sighed, playing with his cuffs.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt as much, I guess having other things to busy my head helped.”

“You should talk to him. Not propose or anything, don’t listen to your father, just talk. You’ve been friends for so many years I’m sure there’s some way to get out of the situation without hurting one another.”

“You think so?”

“You trust me, don’t you?” Sir John put a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to him. Honesty is the first trait of a successful person.”

*

He fully intended to send a message over for Renjun right after dinner so they could meet the next day, but when Mr. Moon came to get him at the station he said Sir Doyoung wasn’t home. After they had a quiet dinner Jeno impulsively decided he was too jittery to stay home, so he got his horse ready and rode to the Huang estate.

The staff there was so used to his visits they immediately got the boy to care for the horse and said Master Renjun was in the drawing room upstairs. On his way to the side entrance Jeno found Jaemin sitting in the gardens.

“I see you are back, Mr. Lee.”

Jeno laughed, anxious.

“Where did you get this idea to call me Mr. Lee, anyway?”

“It just sounds posh, like you. You didn’t reply to my letter, was I overstepping?”

“No! I liked it very much, just decided my reply would be better conveyed in person.”

“Why ?”

As intimidating as it was, Jeno appreciated Jaemin’s bluntness. It felt the same as Renjun’s, a refreshing shot of honesty, which, like his uncle said, was the first trait of a successful person.

“I accidentally discovered my uncle John is married to another alpha. You looked so sad when you told me about your feelings, I asked uncle and Mr. Ten if I could tell you about them.”

Jaemin’s face went through a few expressions Jeno couldn’t decipher before settling in a beautiful smile. Jeno had seen him smile with the power of a thousand suns before, but this one was milder, somehow warmer.

“You thought of me?”

“Of course! They are such a beautiful couple, you should see them telling the story of how they met. I really needed to tell you, Jaemin so, you know, you don’t feel sad or hopeless. Even if our country is still very prejudiced there are many places in the world you can go and not be judged.”

“What if I want to not be judged right here?”

There was something off about his voice, again, like a challenge.

“Here?”

“Yes, right in this garden, this very moment .”

“I’d never judge you, Jaemin! You’re Renjun’s best friend, I’d never hurt you like that.” Jaemin’s whole face fell, making Jeno panic. “What happened? Did I say something wrong? ”

Jaemin looked at him one last time before turning away, hands in his pockets, posture guarded.

“You should go up and talk to Injun. We had a disagreement earlier, he’s probably upset.”

It was difficult to imagine them having a fight, but then again, both had strong personalities.

“What was it about?”

Sighing, Jaemin shook his head and sat by one of the flower beds, where he looked like part of the scenery.

“You should ask Injun, now go along, I need a lot of time to cool off.”

Feeling unsettled, Jeno headed inside and upstairs, finding Renjun, as predicted, in his personal drawing room, rolled in one of the armchairs and staring into space.

“Jaemin told me you two argued,” he said upon entering.

The look Renjun gave him was both of panic and scalding anger.

“Yes.”

“He wouldn’t tell me why, though,” he said, sitting at Renjun’s feet, as he sometimes did.

“Jaemin was being dramatic, that’s all.”

“You both look too upset for it to be all.”

“Fine. He’s mad I didn’t tell him about the whole defective heat thing.”

“Still? He said he was worried about it last week, are you sure he’s mad about this and it’s not an excuse?”

Renjun frowned at him.

“Excuse for what?”

“I don’t know, sometimes people get mad about things they don’t really mind just because they’re frustrated about something else, they overcompensate without realising.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Renjun nodded to himself and squeezed his eyes shut and cursed quietly.

“Was I right?”

“As surprising as it is, yes, I think you’re right,” Renjun smiled and put a hand over the hand Jeno had on his knee. “Now come on, how was your trip? We were expecting a letter back, mister.”

“I know,” Jeno felt his ears go hot at being scolded for the second time about the letters. “But I wanted to talk to you in person. Uncle John had a friend from Thailand over, and it turns out, surprise, this friend, Mr. Ten, is actually his _husband_!”

“What? Sir John had a secret marriage?”

“Even better: Mr. Ten is an alpha too,” he paused to gauge Renjun’s reaction, “and they married in Thailand because it’s legal there.”

Renjun was frozen, mouth hanging open, fingers squeezing Jeno’s, whose heart was pounding.

“I was very confused at first but Mr. Ten was really nice and patient with me. I also found out I’m uncle John’s heir, and I still have to find out why hasn’t father told me about this.”

“Does the rest of the family know?”

“Apparently the whole country knows, because we had to skip a party at one of the Lords of Parliament because he made a prejudiced comment about same gender marriage.”

“And your father?”

“Haven’t talked to him about it yet, but you know how he is.”

“Yes... Can’t remember if I told you Sir Taeyong visited with Mark and Hyuck.”

“Both you and Jaemin did.”

“Ah. Anyway, the wedding is in August. I hope Sir John comes, even if he doesn’t bring the husband along, I have to congratulate him.”

“Jun.”

“Yes?”

“There’s something else I have to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

Jeno though if he should stand up, but Renjun was still holding his hand, now probably grossly sweaty from how nervous he was. He felt slightly out of breath, like one of the ridiculous romance characters Chenle liked, and tried his best to sound sure.

“Uncle John didn’t actually ask me to see him, Mr. Moon suggested me to take some time off to think about this and it worked, actually,” he rambled. “Remember the day of Mark and Donghyuck's engagement? When you found me in the park? Father had actually asked me about this and I was unsure of what to do and then Jaemin arrived and I got even more lost–”

“Jeno, breathe, you’re not making any sense.”

“I like you and my family wants me to marry you,” he blurted, then immediately flushed bright red and lost the nerve to look at Renjun, instead focusing on his wrinkled trousers. “I mean, you don’t– they want it because they like you, I– I love you, actually, love you a lot and– you don’t have to say anything, it’s just you’re always so honest with me I thought I should be to.”

“Jen, look at me,” Renjun said, sliding down the chair to sit on the floor in front of Jeno, who shook his head and kept his eyes on the ground, only holding back from running away because Renjun still had his hand grasped. “Why are you so nervous about this?”

“Because of Jaemin.”

“Jaemin?”

Renjun sounded so alarmed Jeno had to finally look at him.

“Because you’re in love with him.”

“Uh?! Me– I mean, we’ve always been half in love with each other, it doesn’t really–” , Renjun lost his train of thought, eyes slightly unfocused.

In that sliver of silence Jeno heard Jaemin’s voice in the back of his mind, “ _You should see the letters, the way he talks about you_ ”, he had said back in Jeno’s room, “ _even I am half in love with you after all these years._ ”

“What does 'half in love with' mean?” he asked.

“It’s how we always called the way we feel, like there was just a little push missing to make us fall in love for real,” Renjun said, blinking. “But the push never happened because we stopped living close and then you happened.”

“Me?”

“Yes”, Renjun nodded, fingers squeezing Jeno’s. “Then I fell fully in love with you.”

Heart nearly stopping, Jeno’s mind blanked out. He distantly heard his own stutter of confused words and Renjun’s laugh but couldn’t really comprehend what was happening.

“You’re– you like-like me?”

“I like-love you, Jen.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? You knew I wouldn’t reject you!”

Renjun’s laugh died down. He still looked relieved, but his face was set in a frown.

“I wanted Jaemin to meet you first. I needed to… to see you both together.”

“To be sure of your feelings?”

“No, not mine. You see, I was always sure I liked you and I think over the course of the years I… I don’t know, I did something to Jaemin.”

“You didn’t, he already knew you liked me, he said so. He said,” Jeno blushed again, “it was the way you talked about me in your letters.”

Renjun bent forward until his forehead rested against Jeno’s shoulder. It wasn’t something he’d never done before but, in that moment, it felt like something more, like the intimacy Jeno had always wanted.

“Did he say something else on how he felt about my letters?”

Jeno tried to think back, a little distracted by Renjun’s closeness. Hesitantly he brought a hand up and smoothed Renjun’s hair back. He thought of Jaemin riding beside him, of his voice when he talked about his father, of the green enamel pin.

“He said he was half in love with me, too. I thought it was a manner of speech.”

“It’s not.”

Jeno rested his head on top of Renjun’s. For a while, they remained silent, breathing in tandem.

“That’s what I was afraid of overstepping,” Renjun continued. “I feel like it’s too much to ask you to have us both.”

“Both?”

Renjun jumped away from him, standing up and starting to pace. Jeno stayed on the floor, too confused to move.

“Nana has been torturing himself over this since you two met, you see, he thought– I sort of thought it too, that he was in love with you by proxy, because I vented to him and he just bought my cause but it turns out he’s– he likes-likes you, and I know you barely know him and might think this is silly– “

“No, I–”

“But I thought and still think we’d be good with each other, and it’s legal since I’m an omega and I can have two mates.”

“I don’t think it’s silly. You’re entitled to love who you love.”

Renjun stopped on his tracks. He wasn’t wearing a jacket and his cuffs were undone, sleeves pulled up to the elbow. Frazzled and blushing like that he looked like the half-formed dreams Jeno had when he was about to fall asleep.

“You’re being too rational.”

Jeno shrugged.

“Jaemin might be your best friend but I know you pretty well, too.”

“But you didn’t use to be so sensible!”

Jeno laughed, some of the tension leaving his body.

“And you didn’t use to be so emotional! One of us has to be the voice of reason and I’m very sure it won’t be Jaemin. ”

“I won’t be what?” they whipped around to see Jaemin opening the door. “Jeno, what are you doing on the floor?”

“Sitting?” he asked more than stated, fumbling to straighten himself up. Renjun snorted.

“The voice of reason has left the building. I’m going downstairs to ask for some tea.”

Jeno watched him leave to avoid Jaemin’s eyes.

“You proposed, didn’t you? Wait, no, there was no ring. You confessed.”

“What?” Jeno squeaked, alarmed.

“You have a funny look about your face. I told you he’d say yes.”

“Renjun wants to marry us both,” he blurted, then slapped a hand on his mouth, cursing internally.

“He wants to _what_?”

“I think he likes us the same? Basically, he waited to see us together and now he wants to have both.”

“On purely selfish reasons? Because that doesn’t sound like Injun.”

Jeno shuffled on his spot. Jaemin, probably sensing his discomfort, sat beside him.

“He– he thinks– um–”

“Try to collect your thoughts before speaking, darling, it usually works best.”

The pet name nearly made Jeno swallow his own tongue. Jaemin laughed softly. It was beyond intimidating to even imagine a person as... majestic as Jaemin feeling even attracted to him, much less what Renjun claimed he felt.

“I brought green tea and biscuits, it’s too late for anything else– why are you both on the floor now? There are chairs right in front of you!”

Jaemin turned back to Renjun, and Jeno couldn’t even see his face but could feel the sheer intensity radiating from him.

“What is this about marrying both of us? ”

Renjun made a weird noise and put the tray on the first table he found.

“Jeno, seriously, can’t you keep your mouth shut?”

“You know full well I don’t mind, you like Jeno way more than you like me, I’ll always be happy for you while I live in sin somewhere, or a pparently not, since it’s not a sin overseas anymore,” Jaemin interjected, still turned away from Jeno, who could see Renjun’s face and knew he was about to go drastic.

“Don’t play altruistic now, I know who sparked your so-called sinner tendencies.”

Jaemin simply made an aborted noise and started choking. Jeno hurriedly started tapping on his back to try to help him, while Renjun stood by the table with his arms crossed.

“Why is he choking to death about this?” asked Jeno desperately.

“I literally told you why fifteen minutes ago!”

“Wait, it was me?!”

Jaemin dropped headfirst on the floor, wheezing. Jeno feared, for half a second, he was actually dying but saw how red his face was and let go. Meanwhile, Renjun was laughing his face off.

“Come on, Jun, bring the tea down before it cools. We should talk about this,” he paused to look at Jaemin, still curled on the carpet. “Or at least try.”

Within five minutes they had calmed down, Renjun on his second cup, Jaemin digging in the chocolate biscuits and Jeno playing with the sugar cubes.

“Jen, stop chewing on the cubes.”

Jeno looked down, embarrassed. Jaemin was brushing crumbles from his shirt.

“You two definitely need to interact more.”

“Injun...” Jaemin whined.

“Listen, you two promised to help me set up the new studio on the roof, remember? Let’s go to bed and tomorrow, Jeno, you send a message if you’re free, so we can start moving things up.”

Jeno nodded but Jaemin still wouldn’t look at them.

“Are you alright with this arrangement, Nana?”

“Whatever you want, Injun.”

Renjun sighed and stood up, Jeno following him. As they walked down the stairs a little voice started to nag at him from the back of his mind.

“You look worried again,” Renjun said, touching his shoulder. They were in the foyer and nobody else was around. “So much for talking, we barely started and already are a dysfunctional trio. ”

“It’s something I think you should know before we– anyway. Remember I said my family wants me to marry you?”

“Yes? Which is great.”

“The reason my father is pushing it is because we need your money,” he whispered, feeling horribly ashamed to admit it out loud.

“I know.”

“You what?”

“Jen, you can’t be serious. Of course, I know how this works, my parents were an arranged marriage, my cousin had to reject someone he loved because he was already betrothed. It’s a miracle on itself our parents didn’t simply arrange us when we were kids.” Renjun put a hand on his cheek and made him look up. “I know Sir Taeyong and Sir Doyoung don’t have the money to pay for the inheritance tax, Jen. Hyuck told me. Don’t be ashamed, you have so much more to offer than money, or a title, or even your father’s estate, as lovely as it is. I don’t care if your family needs mine and Hyuck’s money, thankfully we have a lot and it’s worth it.”

“Worth it?”

“Hyuck said that. That if he needs to pay to have Mark all to himself forever then so be it. ”

Jeno chucked, amused by Donghyuck’s dramatic way of handling his life.

“And Jaemin?”

“Nana comes from a businesspeople family; he'd hardly need my dowry for anything. We might want his, on the other hand, his father has been promising him the house they own by the seaside.” He smiled, hand still on Jeno’s face. “Are you calmer now?”

“A little,” Jeno said, “I don’t think any of us will be actually calm until we settle everything.”

“You’re right.” Renjun went up on his toes and gave him a hug, then to Jeno’s shock, a peck on his cheek. “I have to see how is Jaemin faring, good night?”

The way he said that with a hint of doubt, blushing and anxious, made Jeno blush even deeper.

“Good night, Jun.”

The breeze outside brought some of his senses back, and on the ride home he finally processed that Renjun, his best friend and love of his life, loved him back, and there was a real chance for them to be together. Doing his best to hold back a lovesick smile, he left the horse with the stable boy and walked upstairs, where he finally bathed and gave in to a million different ideas and fantasies he’d never dared entertain before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely written with Zayn's Icarus Falls album, a beautiful masterpiece.
> 
> This is made out of three chapters. The second is being beta-ed and I'm writing the third, but decided to start posting already to force me into finishing it quicker.
> 
> Hope you're liking the story!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeno experiments with new sensations, accepts his fate and gets high on the best kind of happiness.

The next morning, after a very stiff and scandalous breakfast with his father where he finally had the chance to inquire him on the silence about Sir John’s marriage and choice of heir, Jeno went out to help Renjun with the new studio.

“I hope you’re not meaning to move paint boxes wearing this,” Renjun said when he walked into the old studio on the parlour floor.

Jeno looked down on his leather jacket, good trousers, and high boots.

“Why not?”

“Because, you idiot, oil paint can and will stain literally any fabric. Go upstairs and change, I don’t need Mr. Moon’s fury for ruining your clothes.”

He obediently went up, but not knowing where to even find any simpler clothes, Jeno knocked on the tutor’s office. Mr. Qian was more energetic than Mr. Moon, which meant he was capable of making worse judgmental faces.

“You need a change of clothes, so the oil paint doesn’t ruin yours?” he repeated after Jeno, his tone making him even more embarrassed.

“That’s what Renjun said I had to do.”

“I see…”

What did he see Jeno had no idea, but he got some clothes and headed back to Renjun, who now was ready to start moving things upstairs.

“Where’s Jaemin?”

“In town with Chenle and Jisung. He offered to chaperone them at breakfast so I couldn’t yell at him for running away, the sneaky snake.”

“Sneaky snake,” Jeno laughed, “sounds so silly.”

“Well, yes. Silly just like Nana. He’s being a coward.”

Jeno held up two of the easels and headed for the door.

“Not everyone is as effortlessly brave as you, Jun. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

*

Chenle, Jisung and Jaemin were supposed to come back in time for lunch, but as the mealtime came and went and there was no sign of them, everyone started to worry. Jeno kept arranging the supplies around the studio, while Renjun looked out of the huge windows and frowned.

Mr. Qian and Mrs. Huang kept walking back and forth by the lake, talking to one another with their heads together. It was very unsettling, and Jeno, back to his own clothes, had to keep himself occupied to hold his mind from imagining horrible things. It wasn’t even nighttime, after all.

An hour into the wait a horse came down the hill. Renjun ran downstairs like a maniac, Jeno close behind. To their horror, it was Jisung on Jaemin’s horse, holding a pale and tear stained Chenle.

“I was riding with Nana and Lele's horse had a scare. He fell and his leg got hurt, it’s probably broken, I don’t know, I tried to come quickly but I was so afraid of running and jostling him.”

“What about Jaemin?” Renjun asked, still hugging Jisung as the adults carried Chenle into the house and sent after the doctor.

“He stayed to try to calm Chenle's horse.”

Jeno knew the horse, Sterling, had been a gift from Renjun’s grandfather, very prized by the family. Jaemin probably knew too, but Sterling wasn’t a foal or a pony, and if scared he had more than enough strength to hurt Jaemin.

“I’ll go and help him,” he said. Renjun looked like he wanted to argue but Jeno waved him off. “Stay here with the kids, they need you, it’s fine.”

*

Except it wasn’t fine at all. The town sat on top of a hill, up a road made from dirt and stones, one that Jeno usually found pleasant if he was on horseback. Halfway through the journey, though, a heavy summer storm began, drenching him and his horse, making the saddle slippery and his vision blurred.

He found Jaemin with a thankfully calm Sterling hiding under a tree off road, both also pitifully drenched.

“I was supposed to keep you company home, not on a flood,” he joked, even if Jaemin looked miserable. “Is the horse alright?”

“He’s fine, it was just a scare. How’s Lele?”

“When I left, they were waiting for the doctor, but he was conscious.”

Jaemin nodded. He looked strained, like when he visited Jeno.

“Come on, now. The keeper’s cottage is close, we can shelter the horses and light a fire.”

Jaemin followed him down the road and to the right, until they came to the low cottage meant to house the gamekeeper of his father’s estate, now vacant because Mr. Choi had married a schoolteacher and went to live with her in town.

On the inside, the house was rather dusty and smelt like dead leaves. Jeno took off his boots and jacket, left them to dry by the door, and went to the pantry to get wood for the fire.

“When you said it was the keeper’s cottage, I thought there would be someone living here.”

“No, our gamekeeper married last year.”

“This is your land already?”

Jeno nodded.

“We’re not even remotely close to your house.”

“The forest goes around left of the manor and takes up over half of the land. Originally, my grandfather wanted to chop some of it off to sell the wood, but my mother was strongly against it, so my father decided to just let the trees be.”

“What happened to your mother?” Jaemin asked, then seemed to catch up to his words. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course. I’m sorry.”

Finally satisfied, Jeno sat on the rug by the fire and started to pull off his shirt, since the fabric was icy and sticking to his skin.

“She had a miscarriage and died of complications from it. I was eight at the time, didn’t really understand she wasn’t coming back.”

“It must’ve been scary.”

“Yes,” Jeno wrung his shirt into the fire, making it sparkle with the drops. “My father isn’t good at dealing with emotions, he just kept living as if nothing had changed and I became a horrible moody brat. Only my tutor and then Renjun had the patience to deal with me.”

Jaemin sat beside him, still fully dressed.

“I’m very sorry about your mother.”

“Thank you, Jaemin,” he smiled. “You really should let your clothes dry, if you stay in them you can catch a cold.”

Jaemin, for the first time ever, blushed bright red. He took his boots off easily but hesitated at his jacket. Jeno politely kept his eyes on the fire until the rustle of fabric stopped. He decided that was a time as good as any to put his cards on the table for Jaemin.

“My father and my uncle tried to raise me and Mark to be as prim and proper as possible. They know the world they were raised in isn’t going to last, all those rules, traditions, constricting politics, nobody really stands for that anymore.” Jeno knew he was rambling, but he also knew he had to get that out of his chest since the opportunity had finally arrived. “I don’t care for the title. What even means to be a Baronet?”

“I think Sir Jeno sounds very elegant.”

Jeno laughed and shook his head. The fire made eerie shadows on the walls and sparkled on the pendant Jaemin had around his neck, a single drop pearl against his pale chest.

“I’m so many years away from this, sometimes I think baronets won’t even exist anymore when father passes away. I love our land, though. It belonged to my grandmother’s father, he and his wife collected exotic trees and rose specimen, there used to be a rose garden west of the manor, but when she died, he cut all of them off. My mother liked the ponds and the horses, she used to compete in the races before getting married.”

Jaemin looked interested, but a little confused. Jeno had never noticed before how his eyes were like a doe's, large and expressive, somehow displaced on his handsome face.

“I don’t think Renjun told you, but he knows, and I feel I should explain it to you myself.” He took a deep breath and faced the fire again. “My grandfather, Lord Lee, is eighty-two. When he passes away, this land and his estate, where uncle Taeyong and Mark live, will be subject to an inheritance tax none of us can fully afford. My mother didn’t leave me much, since all her father owned was passed on to Uncle John, because he’s the only alpha among the three of them. We don’t want to sell the land, most of it is forest, people would buy it to chop it down and make pastures. So, if I marry…”

“Your family needs the dowry.”

“Yes.”

“That’s happening to many families, I think. Some of my colleagues literally spent a semester overseas to look for rich heirs to marry.”

“It’s a little… shameful to talk about this around here. The family doesn’t want to give off the impression we’re ruined.”

“Which you are.”

Letting his shoulders sag, Jeno put his head in his hands. Renjun had been breezy about the issue because he was foreign, from his point of view as long as the family owned something of value their reputation would remain intact. Jaemin knew better.

“Donghyuck’s family is paying a fortune because they want him to have the title. It’s not a dowry, it’s selling the peerage… And since Uncle Taeyong is the eldest he has a lot to sell, grandfather owns half of the town, has interest in land all around here. My father doesn’t have any of that, just the park and the manor, and the horses we breed. It’s not enough to get me a deal like Mark’s.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to understand the situation so you can make an informed decision.”

Jaemin, who had been looking pensively at the fire, turned to him on a hurry.

“You’re actually considering the triple mating?”

“Of course I am, that’s what I said yesterday, isn’t it?”

“I thought it was just because you wanted Renjun.”

Jeno had thought deeply about that but had failed to see a reason against marrying both of them. It would be unusual, maybe frowned upon by the rest of his family, but he knew better than to make his whole life about the Lee clan.

“I would never do that to him, or to you. Had I ever thought I’d be proposed a triple mating? No. But it’s with you, and you’re funny, clever, perceptive, very handsome. You’re a good company, someone I can come to trust. Why would I turn it down? I fee–”

He did not get to finish, because all the sudden there was a hand on his arm and Jaemin’s face incredibly close to his.

“But aren’t you scared of the things people will think and say?” Jaemin whispered. And Jeno, instead of replying, gathered the courage he’d never had his whole pathetic life, looked him in the eyes, and kissed him.

*

“Something is happening with you and Nana,” Chenle said, narrowing his eyes. “I can smell it. Is it about Renjun?”

Jeno looked up from Mark and Donghyuck’s wedding invitation. They were all gathered at his house because Mr. Moon had finally convinced his father to host a dinner.

“There’s nothing happening. Go sit down and stop forcing your leg.”

“Uh. You’re lying.”

Jeno didn’t try to deny, he knew he was a bad liar. His eyes went over to Jaemin on the opposite side of the room talking to Sir Doyoung while Mr. Moon and Mr. Qian played a duet on the piano.

“We’re fine.”

“Are you fighting about Junnie? You don’t have to; he likes you both the same.”

Mr. Moon stood up and started talking with Jaemin as well. Jeno looked back at Chenle to avoid looking for Renjun.

“And why are you going around making confessions in your brother’s stead?”

“I’m just stating facts.”

He considered saying something but knew Chenle would just keep fishing for information. Shaking his head, he looked at where his uncle was nervously speaking with Donghyuck.

Sir Taeyong had been, according to the rest of the family, very brazen and commanding in his youth, bent on defying conventions, and had endured all the judgement to marry a foreign middle-class omega because they were desperately in love. When Jeno became old enough to understand, his uncle’s husband had already left to live on the other side of the ocean and taken Mark, who was only returned when he was old enough for boarding school, and his uncle was the vaguely neurotic shell of what he had once been.

Jeno’s mother had been of opinion that boarding schools were too harsh and permissive of childish cruelties, so Sir Doyoung kept Jeno home tutored, but Mark had spent years being shipped back and forth until Lord Lee had enough and declared he had to stay home and start helping with the family business.

The fragmented upbringing had made Mark into a strange man, a little awkward and contradictory, kind like his father but also extremely strong-willed. Probably the only person strong enough to handle Donghyuck, who had a talent to effortlessly put people on the spot, his soon-to-be father-in-law not an exception.

“Are you quite alright?” a voice asked behind Jeno, and he turned to find Mark himself furrowing his brow at him. Looking back, Jeno realized Donghyuck and his uncle had moved away, and he’d been looking at the void, lost in his head.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“I see…” Mark drawled, looking around. “Come on,” he said, pulling Jeno by the arm to one of the small rooms towards the end of the hall, “you have your ‘help me’ face on, and it must be something big if you haven’t ran to Moon yet.”

They settled on the plush chairs, thick walls muffing the sound of the guests and songs on the parlour, and Jeno started wringing his hands while Mark looked at him with the serenity of a priest – a trait he probably got from the clergymen who taught him – and waited.

“Alright, so this is not really my story,” Jeno hesitantly started, “but it began because Jaemin and my uncle John are… is there a word for this?”

“For what?”

“For alphas who also like alphas?”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

“Like as in… like?” he made a weird movement with his hand. Jeno nodded.

“Uncle John and this friend of his, Mr. Ten, got married overseas, because it’s legal in there. But it’s not in here, so there’s this hoard of problems, and that’s why Jaemin is here, actually, he got involved with another alpha and his parents shipped him off and it’s my fault.”

“It’s your– this is rambling on a whole new level, how on earth is that even _your_ fault?”

“Jaemin likes me.”

“Eh?” Mark’s face was contorted in confusion, and if he wasn’t so nervous himself Jeno would laugh at him.

“Jaemin likes alphas in general but he knows that _because_ he likes _me_. Then Renjun wants to marry us both.”

“Oh, for mercy’s sake!”

“Then last week I confessed to Jun and he said he wants to marry me and Jaemin too, but Jaemin thought he was getting between us, then that I would only have him because I want Renjun, so when I went after him after Chenle’s accident we started talking and he was all flustered and, I mean, you’ve met him–”

“Yes, he’s pretty nice.”

“He’s _gorgeous_ , so I told him that, yes, I’d never turn them down, and he got in my face asking if I wasn’t afraid of people’s judgement, but I’m not, so I just, I mean– we, we kissed.”

“You _kissed_!?" Mark squealed.

“More like… made out,” Jeno rubbed his hands on his face, desperate.

“Made out,” Mark repeated, monotone. He looked halfway between scandalised and defeated.

“With some, uh, _petting_ on non-critical areas included,” Jeno added, because he knew the stories of what boarding school kids were used to, and that Mark wouldn’t understand the true seriousness of the situation if he wasn’t more explicit, but was interrupted by a high squeak.

They both turned and found half of Donghyuck's face peering through a crack on the door. Jeno looked back at Mark, whose composure seemed to be back, because he was rolling his eyes.

“Donghyuck, this is a private conversation,” Mark said on that tired voice always used with his fiancé.

“I'm about to be your husband, your privacy belongs to me now,” Hyuck said, walking in and sitting on the armrest of Mark’s chair. “So, you _petted_ Na Jaemin. Did you like it?”

Jeno sighed in defeat.

“I mean…”

“Don’t lie.”

“Well, yes.”

“This is an optimal situation,” Donghyuck said, wicked smile nearly splitting his face in half, “now you can pet him while Renjun pets you.”

“Aw, come on,” Mark mumbled, “they're not puppies to be pet–”

“What are you talking about? This one's destiny is to be lap dog to those two, don't even try to fool him,” Donghyuck replied and Mark looked indignant. Jeno didn’t know if he should feel offended, since he would rather like living on Renjun's lap forever. “It's a destiny that runs in the family.”

Mark rubbed at his cheeks, flustered. Donghyuck laughed.

“I'm not a lap do–” Mark tried to talk but was interrupted again.

“Would you rather I call you lap _hound_ , alpha?”

Jeno had a sudden impression he was spying on something private, because Mark blushed even more and slumped on the chair, Donghyuck’s fingers playing with his reddened ear.

“Hyuckie, behave,” Mark said, but Donghyuck only smiled and cradled his neck with his hand and turned back to Jeno.

“Are you ashamed?” he asked, and Jeno shook his head. “Good. So, what’s the matter?”

“How do I tell Renjun?”

“How do _the two of you_ tell Injun, you mean. Ask Jaemin.”

“He’s avoiding me.”

“He can’t run forever,” Mark, now fully leaning on Donghyuck, said. “He might be thinking you’re ashamed, it’s best to be straight forward.”

“Do you want me to bring him here? I can make something up!”

Mark hummed, apparently thoughtful. Jeno decided it was just best to let them decide.

“That’s not a bad idea, go get him, I’ll keep an eye on Renjun. You,” he turned to Jeno, getting up, “stay here and calm down, it’s for your own good.”

Jeno stayed put, content to have them run the show. It wasn’t much, since the most important choice he’d already made.

Minutes later he heard the deep rumble of Jaemin’s voice mixed with Donghyuck’s chirping. The door opened and Jaemin walked in, looked at him like a deer on gunpoint, turned on his heel and let out a startled sound at the already closed door.

“Jaem– ”

“Please, don’t,” Jaemin said, sounding pained.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say!”

“You’re going to apologise for last week, but it’s fine, alright? I know you didn’t mean to–”

“What? No–”

“–just curious and I get it. It’s fine.”

Jeno took a long look at Jaemin’s face. He looked annoyed and defeated, hands behind his back as if he was answering to an adult.

“It’s not fine, you’re not fine, and I’m not sorry,” he said, approaching Jaemin slowly. “But you were avoiding me, and Mark and Donghyuck offered to help.”

“Help?”

“Jaemin, we… how are we telling Renjun?”

“Telling Renjun?”

“Yes!” Jeno urged him, impatient. “About, you know, us!”

Jaemin looked thoroughly confused, mouth agape and brow furrowed.

“What, you… you’re telling him? You’re seriously… what?”

Shaking his head, Jeno sat back down to try to calm himself, and motioned Jaemin to the chair in front of him. If his relationship with Renjun had always been defined by Renjun’s control, with Jaemin things seemed to require him constantly calming down.

“I can hardly look at an omega in the eye and say ‘hey, me and your best friend rolled around a dirty cottage floor making out’, can I? Maybe you can, I don’t know. But we must tell him, some way or another. We kissed each other before kissing him, too, and that’s sort of backwards, isn’t it?”

“If I’m honest, Jeno, I’m a little overwhelmed right now,” Jaemin said, narrowing his eyes. Jeno prayed he hadn’t been offended in some way.

“Right.”

“And I sort of want to kiss you again.”

“Al… right?” Jeno said, confused as usual, because he could never fully grasp Jaemin’s expressions and mood swings. Jaemin laughed, even if a little shakenly, and got up, kneeling by his chair.

“You know you’re really beautiful and brave, right?” he asked. Jeno shrugged and shook his head. The conversation was taking a turn he never expected, but again, he should have expected Jaemin to react unusually. “Not many alphas would act the way you do, a handful at best. I’m glad Renjun made you justice in his letters and I could fall in love with you.”

Chuckling, Jeno shook his head again, dizzy from being confessed like that.

“I have no idea what you see in me, being, well, _you_ ,” he said honestly, envying how even sitting on the floor Jaemin looked like a prince.

Being with Jaemin was easier in a way, because even though he was so handsome it felt surreal, he seemed to understand Jeno fairly well, and there was none of that underlying disorientation omegas caused on him. And honestly, he, too, wanted to kiss Jaemin again, but felt like it would be somehow dishonest with Renjun.

“No idea what you keep seeing in me, but suit yourself,” Jaemin said, smiling. He looked at the floor. “But may I still kiss you?”

“You may, but we’re telling Jun tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Jaemin said, getting up and straddling his lap. “Don’t worry,” he said, seeing Jeno’s panicked look at the door, “I heard Donghyuck lock it.”

Jeno just prayed Donghyuck himself wasn’t peering through the keyhole but put that thought aside when Jaemin’s lips touched his.

Once again, it startled him how easy it was to kiss someone, another alpha, to let one of his arms wind around Jaemin’s waist to keep him in place and let the hands on his hair guide him around.

“Do you have,” he mumbled between kisses, nosing along Jaemin’s neck, “any idea of how we could propose?”

“I dunno,” Jaemin sighed, “never thought about it before.”

Proposing was a big deal for his family. A pair of his grandmother’s earrings had been dismantled to make two rings: One for Mark, which now adorned Donghyuck’s finger, and consisted of a round diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds set on yellow gold, forming a halo – apparently as a reference to Donghyuck’s sunny personality. Another for Jeno, who had the bigger diamond square cut and put on a band incrusted with the smaller diamonds, a sparkly but neat set he thought befitted Renjun’s style.

Jaemin’s family was pretty well off, so they probably had some family heirloom meant to be used for engagements too, but Renjun didn’t have two ring fingers on his left hand, and stacking two rings would be gaudy and weird.

“What are you worrying about?” Jaemin whispered in his ear. Jeno shivered and pinched him on the leg as revenge.

“The proposal.”

“You landed gentry are awfully quaint with your traditions. Alright, what is it about the proposal?” Jaemin pulled away but kept sitting on his knees.

“I have a ring ready, it’s a family diamond matching the one Mark used. Did your family ever mention what they want you to use?”

“I don’t think my parents ever planned anything. I only ever liked Injun, but the general impression has always been that when time came, he would marry you.” It was a little disconcerting to know that people outside his little bubble had the same expectations as his father, but Jeno kept quiet, because Jaemin didn’t look done. “The family heirloom part is obviously more important for you; I can just order something from a jeweller.”

“What should it be? Since he’ll already have a ring? A bracelet?”

“No, Injun would complain about it scratching his canvases.”

“A necklace, then?”

“A necklace…” Jaemin looked deep in thought for a second, “wait, what if…” he let go of where he was holding Jeno’s shoulder and started to undo his tie, then unbuttoned his collar and a few buttons of his shirt to reach underneath it. The fine chain he pulled out had the pearl Jeno noticed before hanging from it. “This pearl is from a brooch my father wore at his wedding, he dismantled it and made pendants for me and Jisung, it’s supposed to be a symbol of his and mum’s union.”

Jeno took the pearl, still warm from Jaemin’s skin. It was drop shaped, hanging from an ornated gold cape and a gold chain. Compared to the ring it was almost plain but suited the way Renjun and Jaemin’s relationship felt like: simple, fluid, and natural like water.

“I think it works beautifully,” he smiled up at Jaemin. “Suits him, too.”

“Where’s your ring? I want to see it!”

“It’s upstairs in my room, get off so I can fetch it.”

Jaemin chuckled and gave him one last peck on the lips before getting up and starting to sort his collar and tie back. Jeno went to the mirror over the fireplace to fix his hair and overall dishevelled state. Just as he was about to turn around, the door burst open, a mess of voices coming through.

“I’m telling you they’re not–” Mark was saying, while Donghyuck whined something.

“See if I care, Mark Lee,” growled Renjun, sounding furious and walking in.

“Injunnie, why are you yelling?” asked Jaemin, hands in his pockets, looking the perfect picture of elegance and poise, as usual.

“Because you two have been missing for _ages_ and Mark kept hovering around me and then Hyuck had the door locked!” Renjun replied, agitated. Then, he looked between them and deflated. “Tell me you weren’t arguing, I noticed you were weird the whole evening.”

From behind him, Mark was tastefully closing the door, or maybe he was doing it for his own sake, because Donghyuck was snickering like a bastard.

“We were not arguing,” Jeno said truthfully, looking at Renjun so he wouldn’t look at Jaemin and betray anything.

“It’s true, Injunnie,” Jaemin added, sitting on the arm of one of the chairs to face Renjun as well. “We just had to sit down and figure some things out.”

Renjun kept looking between them, his arms crossed. He was wearing a pinstriped waistcoat that made him look sharp and contrasted with his red tie. Jeno imagined how good he would look with the ring and the pearl and held back a smile.

“May I know what things?”

Felling less alarmed, Jeno looked at Jaemin to improvise some dismissive answer, but to his horror Jaemin was blushing furiously.

“You know,” Jaemin said, shrugging and probably thinking he still looked normal. “Just anything.”

“Jeno?” Renjun asked pointedly, and all the sudden Jeno couldn’t feel his legs, so he leaned on the fireplace for support.

“Only, uh,” he looked at Jaemin again, who seemed to be finally understanding his loss about how to tell Renjun about _them_. “An alpha to alpha conversation, you know how those things are.”

The withering look Renjun gave them could kill a small animal, and also sent shivers down Jeno’s spine from how attractive it was. And only then, suddenly, he realised why he was feeling so jumpy that night: his rut was coming in less than a day. He most certainly wasn’t ready for three whole days of anxiety and frustration on account of his hormones.

“Fine, keep your alpha secrets. I’m starting to understand why Hyuck is so invasive with Mark, honestly,” Renjun huffed, annoyed, and opened the door. “I need a drink.”

As he disappeared down the hall, Jaemin turned to Jeno, eyes large.

“Damn,” he cursed, “how are we telling him?”

“We aren’t, I suppose,” Jeno sighed, shoulders sagging. “Let’s just propose and have this sorted.”

*

Jaemin left the pearl pendant with him to take to the jeweller in town and get it cleaned and boxed appropriately, but he had to delay the errand because not only his rut lasted longer than usual, it also brought along a horrible migraine who scared even Mr. Moon.

“I thought you were doing well after coming back from John’s,” his tutor whispered, pressing warm towels to his temples and eyes, as usual well-aware of how his pupil’s mind and body worked. Jeno just mumbled non-concomitantly. “If you aren’t better by tomorrow morning, I’m calling the doctor and putting you on something, you need to sleep.”

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Jeno kept his eyes closed and prayed the gods would grant him some relief. Mr. Moon came back and tapped his hand.

“Renjun’s friend is here, do you want to see him?”

The gods were probably laughing from their place high in heavens. Jeno didn’t know whether to laugh along or cry.

“Yeh, let him in,” he whispered, trying not to feel self-conscious of his deplorable appearance. Hidden under the covers and hot towels, the whole world was like a distant assignment he didn’t have to handle just yet, and he wondered if that was how his father felt all the time, and that was why he always hid behind his conventions.

“I came because Injun is worried,” Jaemin was speaking lowly, but not whispering. Through the fabric, it sounded comforting.

“It’s probably stress induced,” Moon said, “the rut made it worse.”

“I see… My mother is prone to rut migraines, too. She spent some time undergoing an experimental treatment in Japan a few years ago, they used different baths and little needles.”

“Acupuncture, yes. Qian uses this with the boys a lot.”

“He does? Maybe you could call him in, then. His only class was piano with Chenle this morning.”

A little silence followed Jaemin’s suggestion, then Moon hummed.

“I’ll send the boy over for him.”

Jeno heard the door open and close but was distracted by a new bout of nausea. A hand sneaked under his pillow and cradled his neck.

“Try lying on your side, darling. It’s supposed to help,” Jaemin’s voice said. Jeno whined, afraid to move, and he chuckled. “I’ll help you, here.” With some effort, Jaemin sat sideways on the bed and pulled Jeno’s head to his lap, forcing him on his side. “Better?”

In lieu of an answer, Jeno grabbed his hand and squeezed. He did feel better, but couldn’t know if was on account of the change of position or Jaemin’s fingers massaging his scalp.

When Mr. Moon returned with Mr. Qian, Jeno had his eyes open while Jaemin told him some inconsequential story about a teacher he had in school. The look the two tutors gave them was borderline hilarious, and Mr. Qian looked oddly triumphant for a man attending a medical emergency.

The little needles proved effective, as was Jaemin’s council on drinking certain herbal teas and doing breathing exercises, and Jeno finally fell asleep lulled by the three of them conversing and Jaemin’s thumb making circles on his temple.

*

July was always a slow month, and that year it proved to be especially sluggish. His days were filled with tiresome bookkeeping in the morning, sitting for Renjun’s drawings in the afternoon, and horse riding in the early evening with Jaemin.

Renjun was sketching him on as many poses as possible, considering how to paint a portrait of “his troubles”, as he’d taken to calling Jeno and Jaemin.

“Take off your jacket and _smile_ ,” Renjun ordered, face hidden behind the easel he had his pad propped on. “No, no, smile like you mean it! Jaemin, get behind me and make him smile.”

Jaemin, who was barefoot on the floor at the corner of the studio reading a book and munching on chocolate, looked up without interest.

“Make him smile yourself, he’s mad at me ‘cause I won the race yesterday.”

“Troubles,” Renjun mumbled, looking behind him, “I’m doomed. Urgh,” he ripped off the page and mussed up his hair, exasperated.

“How was town this morning?” Jaemin asked with fake nonchalance.

“Busy, but I got everything done,” Jeno answered. He had finally picked the pearl necklace back from the jeweller, now packed in a beautiful blue satin box.

“That’s good. I was thinking we could have a picnic tomorrow.”

Renjun had gone back to sketching furiously, with the pad on his lap now.

“Why are you smiling about a picnic? Are you hungry? Jaemin, give him food, stop hogging everything.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jeno said, waving Jaemin’s half eaten chocolate away. “What do you think of making the picnic on the clearing?”

“Good. _Keep still_. I want the green tea cake your cook makes.”

“Yes, sir,” he kept still to avoid being yelled at again but exchanged a brief look with Jaemin. In less than twenty-four hours they would be officially engaged.

*

He asked the cook for both green tea and chocolate cake, earning a funny look from her because he had never showed interest on cake before. There was so much food he could barely fit a bottle of champagne in the basket, and had a hard time balancing it on the saddle while he rode to the clearing. He wasn’t too worried, though, because the most important part was the ring in his pocket, and the necklace he had given back to Jaemin the night before.

When he arrived, Renjun was setting up the portable teapot his father had brought him from overseas, while Jaemin watched him with weary eyes.

“It won’t set the forest on fire, I’m telling you,” Renjun was saying, pouring water on the pot. “I’ve used it before.”

“Injunnie, I’m scared,” Jaemin moaned like a child, hands fisted under his chin.

“And people say alphas are brave… Jeno! Tell him to quit pestering me!”

Jeno dismounted, carefully lowering the basket.

“The gas contraption is perfectly safe, Jaemin,” he said, even though Jaemin probably wasn’t listening, too busy exploring the picnic basket.

“You’re such a saint, bringing me chocolate cake…” Jaemin sing-sang over Renjun’s protests that the teapot wasn’t a _contraption_. “There’s chocolate and green tea cake, sandwiches, fruit, cheese rolls, pork mini pie and lemon bars!” he exclaimed.

“Do you plan to break the horse’s back when it carries me and Nana back home?”

Jeno put the adorable porcelain teacups in line for Renjun, shrugging.

“The cook got excited.”

“Sure, as if you didn’t stand around looking over her shoulder suggesting dish after dish instead of going upstairs to work.”

Knowing how to spot a lost battle upon seeing one, Jeno kept quiet and watched as Jaemin started his routine of stress-eating. Renjun, none the wiser, was measuring careful spoons of jasmine tea into the pot, his profile cut against the bright green of the grass.

Would their home be that same way? Smell like jasmine and oil paint, be filled by Jaemin’s loudness and Jeno’s poorly organised papers? Would they, in the many years to come, change in their own ways but keep that same easy companionship? Was love the mysterious elation of Renjun’s attention or the physical comfort of Jaemin’s presence?

There were no answers to his questions, only the quiet assurance of knowing that regardless of his duties to family and land, to rules and traditions, this was his own life. No matter the pressure of the past and the anxiety of the future, his ultimate decision was to devote his life to those two and try his damned hardest to be good for them.

Sunrays pierced through the canopy of the tree they were sitting under. Jaemin put down his fork, seeming to understand Jeno’s intentions. In a moment, he had the necklace’s box in his hand. Renjun was now pouring the three cups of tea.

It was nothing like he had imagined in the feverish months of early Spring, and yet, it was the way all of them were meant to be. Resolved, he and Jaemin opened their respective boxes, and in tandem said their words.

“Huang Renjun, will you marry us?”

Despite his own emotional state, Jeno discovered he had underestimated Renjun’s emotions: his eyes immediately filled with tears, and although he was saying “yes, yes” as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, his eyes kept fleeting between their faces, as if looking for something. The ring suited him perfectly, and the pearl hung neatly right over his heart.

Feeling drunk, Jeno kissed his hand, thankful beyond words. He heard Jaemin murmur something, Renjun’s laugh, and looked up to see them kiss for the first time, and they kissed like old lovers, unhurried and familiar, as spontaneous and precious as the pearl that represented them. Renjun’s fingers squeezed around his, holding him in place for a beat, and a second later his lips were on Jeno’s, warm and wet, and there was an urgency on both of them that dissolved in a fit of giggles, a rush of _finally_ being allowed that. Jeno looked at Jaemin, who was resting his head on Renjun’s shoulder, and on a whim kissed him too, as quick and sweet as he could, just to be clear of where they stood.

“I _knew_ you were doing something behind my back,” Renjun whispered in his ear. “But you’re forgiven.” Turning back to him, Jeno saw the mirth dancing on his eyes, along with something else, something he wasn’t even ready for. “You’re forgiven if you kiss me again.”

Over the rush in his ears, Jeno could barely hear him, and obliged blindly, deepening the kiss fuelled by the pressure of Jaemin’s hand on his neck, high on a feeling a million times more effervescing and addictive than champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how this chapter oscillates between sweet and spicy! The last three scenes were written with Dario Marianelli's score for 2015 Pride and Prejudice, it feels like love on a sunny day, highly recommend it!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the first chapter, they got me very hyped! And as usual, thanks Marina for being a keyboard-smash beta.
> 
> There was a slight change of plans because the third chapter got MASSIVE and didn't cover everything I wanted before ending, so the story's gonna end up with four chapters. The third being super long, if it takes a while for me to post, please be patient with the beta and proof reading process 💚


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeno confronts some fears and anxieties, all while drooling over his fiancés.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delays, yay. Sorry for the wait, the last month has been hectic around here! Hope you all enjoy this chapter, it's long and a total roller coaster of emotions.
> 
> As usual, thank you Marina for beta-ing and the funny comments!

Mr. Moon insisted they left early for the engagement party at the Huang estate, maintaining the rest of the family could arrive whenever they wanted because they weren’t hosting. Sir Doyoung, who had a mortal phobia of being a host for reasons unknown, paled but hurried to get the driver.

Jeno was surprised with his own tranquillity. The most nerve-wrecking step had been taken, now they were meant to move along their families’ traditions and demands, and nothing too surprising could possibly happen, since weddings were all basically the same. The calmness of his heart was overthrown, however, when he walked into the ballroom and spotted Renjun.

Lady Huang – who constantly complained of being called a courtesy title but was called by it anyway – came from a very progressive family. Her father, the Earl of Weishen, sat at the Parliament and advocated rights for farmers and sailors; her younger brother was a prominent advocate for omega rights, constantly writing opinion pieces on omega’s suffrage. With such a background, she chose to raise her children unbound from most gender roles, something Mr. Huang endorsed because he disliked, in his own words, “constricting possibilities”.

One of the outcomes of this decision was that the boys had been dressed in the minimalist fashion of schoolchildren, with sweaters, plain leather shoes, single-breasted suits and a waistcoat at more formal occasions, even after Renjun presented. An engagement was apparently enough to change the dress-code.

Renjun was dressed in a low-cut blouse that left his neck and collarbones exposed, had three quarter sleeves and was made of a black tulle layered over creamy silk, with black lace at the sleeve-cuffs and blending with the band of his high waisted trousers. Upon closer inspection Jeno saw he was wearing a necklace made from graded row of diamonds, delicate and complementing to the peal that seemed to float over his heart. When they faced each other, Jeno also realised his shoes had heels.

“You look weird,” Renjun said, “I mean! You look good, really good, it’s just– you’re making a weird face.”

“You never– I didn’t know you–” Jeno stammered, tongue tied. Jaemin was nowhere in sight to help him, too. “You look _so gorgeous_.”

“This blouse is so pretty, isn’t it? I’m finally allowed to wear things like this, and diamonds, too! But no coloured stones, yet. Lele is so _jealous_ , he whined the whole day because he wanted to wear heels and make up too. Can you tell I’m wearing rouge?”

He moved his face, smiling widely, and Jeno could in fact see the faint pinkish tint over his cheekbones. It made him look radiant. He had always possessed that special colour of cuteness that came from his eyes and petite frame, and it had developed into a sharp, aristocratic beauty that took after his mother’s as the years had passed. This, though, was a completely different form of beauty, one that Jeno would love to parade in the clubs when they went to the city on Spring.

Looking around and seeing all the grown-ups distracted with each other, he grasped Renjun’s hand and took him slightly behind a curtain.

“Will I destroy anything if I kiss you now?”

In lieu of a response, Renjun laughed and kissed him. Jeno’s hands went immediately for his tiny waist, pressing him close until he could feel his chest rise and fall against his own, in tandem as they became increasingly breathless.

“Someone’s excited tonight,” Renjun whispered, eyes and lips glimmering with the chandelier lights.

“You’re too pretty.”

The blush underneath the rouge deepened. Jeno had a whole waterfall ringing in his ears. He dipped for another kiss but was startled by a screech that could only mean Chenle being excited for something. Renjun blinked, disoriented, and untangled from Jeno, starting to put himself together.

“Don’t know why I bother, mum and Mr. Qian are probably giggling behind their fans and complaining about children growing too fast,” he mumbled, but smoothed Jeno’s lapels and straightened his bowtie. “I’ve never seen this waistcoat on you before.”

“It’s new, a gift from Mr. Moon. Where’s Jaemin?” he asked, looking around now they looked marginally more decent. Lady Huang and Mr. Qian, plus Mr. Moon, were in fact making eyes at them from across the room.

“Upstairs practicing verbal fencing with his mother.”

“What?” Jeno distractedly noticed the butler walking up to Mr. Huang.

“Mrs. Na is livid since lunch because she found out Nana wants to drop out of college to live here.”

“Didn’t he tell them that in a letter last week?”

“For some reason she thought he meant on the long run, that we would live in the city until he finished all the Tripos and achieved the BA. They delayed this conversation for too long, Jaemin never wanted to go to college in the first– Grandpapa!”

The Earl of Weishen was in fact walking in, an excited Chenle hanging from his arm and a small box on his free hand.

“Renjun, my darling!” he bypassed all formalities to hug his grandson and shake Jeno’s hand. “You are beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, grandpapa.”

“Where’s your little rascal?”

“Jaemin should be here at any moment.”

“He better hurry, I must speak with the three of you.”

Lord Zhong said that with levity, but Jeno’s back went taunt with worry. For his whole life, a “must speak with you” meant admonishments and frustration, even when coming from his tutor or uncles. Renjun looked puzzled, his mind apparently going everywhere as well.

“I’ll run up and call him!” Chenle chirped, ready to fly off, but Renjun held his arm.

“He’s coming, don’t worry,” he said firmly. If Lord Zhong noticed anything, he gave no indication, instead striking a conversation with Sir Doyoung, who had come to greet him.

“And where is old Lee? I barely see him now he has retired,” he was asking, eliciting a polite smile out of Jeno and his father.

“He’ll be here, only Taeyong drives very slowly, sir, so we could not afford to wait for them,” Doyoung chuckled.

“Puh, to think I remember you and Taeyoungie as little children, and now you’re both wedding your own children off. Time waits for no one.”

“My brother is still a little child, but if he asks, I’ve never said such a thing.”

All of them laughed, even though Chenle – who worshipped Taeyong for some reason – looked around to see if anyone was listening on them.

The Na Family appeared just then: Jaemin with his father, Jisung with his mother, all looking most friendly and becoming, exchanging greetings and compliments. They had arrived the previous day and their three families had had dinner together at Jeno’s house, who found Jaemin’s parents to be warm and funny, especially his mother, while his father had the same quiet personality as Jisung. Jaemin was his mother’s copy in appearance too, the same height, build and large expressive eyes. The four of them seemed to be close knitted, not in the same laid-back way the Huangs were, but with a sturdy, honest sense of loyalty.

Jeno could understand why Jaemin found it hard to break their expectations.

It was still early enough no guests were arriving, so Renjun led them to a sitting room, where Lord Zhong took the armchair and the three of them squeezed into a loveseat. When Chenle’s whines about being left out faded, the Earl extended the satin-wrapped box he’d been holding to Renjun.

“It was your grandmother’s wish to gift you this when you became of age. I mean it as a way to convey how me and her both, despite she no longer being with us, are vastly proud of the man you grew up into, and of your choice to spend life beside two people that have cared and supported you for many years,” he said, voice thickening by the end.

Renjun clicked the box open to find a diamond and pearl bracelet, which he touched with the tips of his fingers while his eyes filled with tears. Jeno too was holding back tears, because even though Lady Zhong had passed away over three years prior, her memory was dear to him, since she was the most caring and high spirited person he’d ever met, and had been taken away still young.

“Thank you so much,” he said, bowing, because Renjun looked too emotional to react, and Jaemin looked like a spooked deer, “for blessing us,” he tried to find more words, but the curse of the Lees seemed to catch onto him and he had none.

“You must know, sir,” Jaemin picked up for him, “that you and Lady Zhong are important not only to Injun but to us as well, and we’re glad to be welcomed into your family.”

Renjun sniffed, struggling to close the bracelet, so Jeno hurried to help him while Jaemin took a handkerchief out of his pocket. They were an emotional mess, as per usual. But an Earl of Weishen approved mess.

After a few more minutes of sniffing, eye-dabbing and wooing over the beautiful bracelet, Renjun got up to hug his grandfather. When they sat back down, Lord Zhong crossed his legs and his face changed the same way Renjun’s would when he approached some grave topic.

“Still talking about my family,” he said, nodding at himself, “as you know both my children are omegas and cannot inherit my peerage, and I respect my son’s decision to remain unmarried, therefore my only grandchildren will be Renjun and Chenle. Chenle will be sixteen in a few months and probably present by then, but we cannot play blind to what traits he’s been developing.”

The three of them nodded. Obviously, nothing could be taken for granted, but everyone was mostly sure by then that Chenle would be an omega as well.

“So, unless something unexpected happens,” the Lord continued, “the peerage will be passed onto one of your children, and realistically speaking, way before they are of age, which will leave the title dormant for years.”

Jeno felt like his lungs were folding on themselves. He had grown increasingly careless about his own title, Baronet was a decorative title for landowners who couldn’t amass enough power to be actual Barons. Earls were something else entirely: they had local and political power through the Parliament and came from long lineages with ties to the Crown. He exchanged a look with Jaemin, who looked equally tense. Renjun only nodded.

“What if all my children are omegas too?”

“Then the title will go extinct, unless omegas finally become able to inherit anything in this country.”

“Father’s estate is to be evenly split between me and Lele, though,” Renjun said, crossing his arms.

“But according to the law, who is supposed to manage the spoil?” Lord Zhong asked sarcastically.

“Our spouses,” Renjun sighed. “So unfair.”

“It might change, dear, don’t lose hope. I don’t mean to upset you, we’re discussing things that come into effect many, many years in the future.”

“But that we have to be aware of, I understand.”

Both Jeno and Jaemin nodded along, exchanging a look that, judging by his face, was caught by Renjun. Lord Zhong got up, and made for the door, but Renjun kept them sat down and said they would be out in a minute.

The second the door closed he got up, fiddling with his new bracelet.

“It’s nothing new, right? Jeno’s family has a title to keep too.”

“But we aren’t peers, Jun. My grandfather and Uncle Taeyong are, my father’s title is mostly decorative, he can't sit at the Parliament or anything.”

“Do you think it’s bad if we lose the title?”

“I think it’s farfetched to think about it now,” Jeno said, taking a deep breath. “Lord Zhong said _extinct_ , but I believe the title would become _abeyant_ , meaning it’s waiting for the next heir. Anyway, it’s entirely possible for you to have one or more alpha children, my side of the family is mostly alphas, remember?”

Jaemin rose and held out his hands for Renjun.

“I think the bottom line is that we know what is, let’s say, _required_ from us, and that it’s something up to chance and time. Come on, don’t get upset now, you look beautiful, there’s a party waiting for us, and you’ve just got engaged to one of the most handsome men in the country.”

“Don’t be narcissistic, Nana,” Renjun joked, accepting the hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Wasn’t talking about myself,” Jaemin replied, winking at Jeno, who could only laugh. The two of them formed a beautiful picture with their coordinated black and white outfits, their usual sweetly obscene way of looking at each other, and the secretive smile they shared before looking at Jeno. “Come here, darling. Doesn’t Injunnie look amazing tonight?”

Renjun laughed, playing with the lapels of both his fiancés’ jackets.

“You’re all awfully excited by lower necklines and diamonds, it seems. Jeno got cross-eyed early and dragged me behind a curtain to make out.”

“So Mr. Lee gets a kiss, but I don’t?”

“Ask Mr. Lee to kiss you, then,” Renjun quipped, “I have no interest for hot cocoa thieves.”

That had been the joke of the previous night: Jaemin had shamelessly swiped his already empty cocoa cup for Renjun’s, drinking both and claiming it was because Renjun didn’t like chocolate.

Jeno shook his head and kissed Jaemin’s pout away. He always tried to keep it tame around Renjun, and Jaemin always went for the deepest kiss possible because he was nothing but shameless.

“Ju-u-u-u-un!” Chenle screeched through the door, startling them, “mummy is asking for you!”

Rolling his eyes, Renjun gave Jaemin a quick kiss and went out, leaving them no option but to follow him.

In their absence, many of the guests had arrived, as well as the band, and champagne trays were being carried around by light-footed servants. Jaemin snatched two flutes and offered Jeno one.

“To our engagement, Mr. Lee.”

“Pray it is peaceful,” Jeno chortled, clinking their glasses, “because I’m not looking forward to the bloodbath of setting up a wedding for three different families.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Mark appeared out of nowhere.

“Jaemin, hi. You don’t mind me calling you Jaemin, right? Nice, I’ll just borrow Jeno for a second, we’ll be right back,” he blabbered while dragging Jeno away. “Okay, I’ll be quick,” he said once they were by a corner, “grandfather isn’t coming, he’s very, and I mean _very_ , furious with uncle allowing you into a triple mating.”

“What? What for? He was waxing poetry about how proper of a match I’d made, which was low of him, Renjun isn’t any more special than Donghyuck just because he’s Lord–”

“I know, I know, but apparently he only just realised today that your kids might not be _your_ kids, and we had to endure the most _disgusting_ speech about lineage purity at lunch, he went off about how dare uncle allow for a half-blooded child, his words, sit at Chainmore.”

Jeno’s jaw dropped. Lord Lee had always been difficult and overly traditional, but to belittle Jaemin and his family that way, not to mention the indirect jab at Renjun’s right to choose his mates, was revolting.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed, shaking his head.

“Just a heads up, so you can be prepared. Heaven knows he can’t be stopped, he spews vitriol about Hyuck left and right, and now this. I’ve tried _so hard_ to reason with him, I keep telling him it’s for the best, that there’s nothing wrong with Hyuck’s family, but he’s a nasty old man too sure of his own opinions and father doesn’t stand up against him, doesn’t protest at all, just tells me to be patient and move on. Uncle will probably tell you the same, so…”

Sighing, Jeno downed the rest of his drink. Mark looked exasperated, borderline upset, gesturing, and speaking too fast, and he could imagine how suffocating it probably felt to live in the same house as their grandfather and have to endure the same humiliation daily.

“He has until November to make peace with Jaemin’s existence. If he doesn’t, he might as well skip the wedding, it’s not like he ever cared for me one bit. And you and Donghyuck will be fine, what is he going to do after you’re married, and all is said and done?”

Mark looked at him pensively, fiddling with his signet ring and looking across the room at where his fiancé was talking with Jisung. Their wedding was less than two weeks away and would be the party of a lifetime, with the way Donghyuck’s family was splurging obscene amounts of money on it.

“So, we should be patient and move on, then? Like my father says?”

“Maybe not on the same grounds, but, well, what else can we do?”

Just as Mark opened his mouth they were interrupted, on what seemed to be the trend for the evening, by Chenle announcing Sir John had arrived. Jeno had not expected his uncle to come, despite having invited him, supposing he would be overseas again, but sure enough he could see the tall figure by the door speaking to Lady Huang.

Jaemin was trailing behind Chenle and looking anxious, so Jeno chose to exchange one last look with Mark and go with them to find Renjun.

Sir John looked at them up and down, then smiled.

“Renjun, looking beautiful as always,” he said casually, making Renjun – shockingly – blush. “I take that you are the famous Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s ears got red and he nodded, bowing his head.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise.”

“Congratulations on your marriage, too,” Renjun said, throwing a glance at Jaemin’s nervous face. “I take that both of you will come to our wedding.”

“Ah, thank you. He’s at the hotel in town, we could all meet some other day.”

“Wait,” Jeno interrupted their conversation, “Mr. Ten is here but didn’t come to the party?”

“We didn’t want to cause a scene; the night is supposed to be about you.”

Jeno felt Jaemin tense beside him, and instinctually put a hand around his wrist.

“You wouldn’t,” Renjun said, voice light but eyes deadly serious. “And yes, all of us must meet, although I’m afraid Jaemin is leaving tomorrow afternoon, but there will be plenty of occasions in the future too.”

Looking taken aback, Sir John nodded. Jaemin, on the other hand, was still strung like a bowstring, so Jeno chose to just hold and squeeze his hand in hopes to be more comforting. His uncle’s eyes followed the movement, then fixed on his face.

“I see,” Sir John drawled. Jeno smiled at him until he smiled back. Their whole family had the same trait, their smiles were only sincere when reaching the eyes, and one of the things Jeno remembered his mother most for was her habit of smiling and touching the corners of his eyes until he smiled back at her.

*

The entire Na family left the next day after lunch, and Jeno and Renjun held hands while waving off the train.

“Did he tell you anything about the college issue?” Renjun asked as they walked back to the car, a few paces behind his parents.

“No, he barely speaks to me when his parents are around.”

“This is…”

“Quite logic.”

“Problematic. It means he’s still afraid.”

“He’s going to have many years to adjust himself and his family to our arrangement, we shouldn’t worry.”

Renjun stopped just short of the car and turned to him, playing with the pearl pendant with his left hand, the diamond ring sparkling under the July sun.

“I know, but I also know Nana can be self-destructive if left to his own devices.”

*

They ended up sitting together to write one long joint birthday letter to Jaemin, a seven-page assortment of daily anecdotes, emotional declarations and, by the end, a racier post-script Jeno added on his own before posting. If anyone saw what he had said, he decided, then so be it. He had no intentions to hide the nature of their relationship.

Jaemin replied with two separate letters, that they read together while lying on the clearing. Renjun’s was long, detailing the festivities for his birthday, how Jisung of all people had convinced their mother to let him drop out of college, and professing how much he missed the Huangs and most of all Renjun, finishing with a few verses he’d found in an old schoolbook and had reminded him of one of Renjun’s paintings.

The one addressed to Jeno was shorter, a continuous and slightly feverish spiel about how much he missed the countryside and going riding every day that seamlessly blended into a recounting of a dream Jeno’s neck and ears burned while reading. Renjun, reading over his shoulder, hummed appreciatively.

“You’re both so cruel to me,” he whined on Jeno’s ear, “being all nice and polite when I’m around, but doing things like _this_ with each other.”

“I’m– I’ve– we’ve never–” Jeno stuttered, but Renjun shut him up with a kiss and a healthy pull on his hair that made him shiver.

“But I’ll admit that I love that you like him this way, actually. It’s as exciting for me as low necklines are for you, love.”

Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Jeno barely had a moment to catch his breath before Renjun was straddling his lap and undoing the top three buttons of his own plain white shirt, the light fabric sliding off his shoulder and pulling on the pearl pendant. Gathering it was time to be brave again, Jeno traced his fingers over his collarbones and over his shoulder, then kissed the same trail, eliciting the softest noise from Renjun.

“Better now?” Jeno asked, teasingly, getting his hair pulled as what he supposed was punishment, but only felt good.

“You bastard, don’t stop.”

He laughed against Renjun’s throat, kissing him there as a precautional measure.

“I’ve no idea what I’m doing,” he confessed.

“Neither have I, but who cares?”

Renjun’s eyes were especially sparkly, and he looked glorious cut against the bright canopy of the three they were sitting under, his hand wandering up and down Jeno’s chest.

He supposed the same way what he’d been taught his whole life about love didn’t apply to what he felt with Jaemin, it didn’t have to apply for what he did with Renjun, so Jeno pulled him closer and kissed him again, deep and frantic the way he’d only entertained in half-remembered dreams, and revelled on how good it felt to be immersed like that in someone he loved.

*

The music changed and the church doors opened. In all white and supported by his mother, Donghyuck looked angel-like. A large yellow diamond pendant on his neck twinkled under the shifting light of the stained-glass windows and his smile was, for once, endearing and sweet. Mark watched him walk down the aisle with the stupidest smile on his face.

“So pretty,” Jaemin whispered, making Renjun hum in agreement. Jeno kept silent, hyper aware of his father sitting beside him.

The ceremony was long and suffocating, the summer air too still and making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. The truth was that, despite the beautiful sunflower bouquets and the lace train cascading down Donghyuck’s back, the entire family’s eyes were on Sir Taeyong’s estranged husband standing gracefully by the altar and never looking anywhere but at Mark. He was incredibly beautiful, of a cold sort of beauty that hadn’t been passed along to their son, and his doe eyes looked melancholic.

“Breathe,” Renjun whispered in his ear. “What’s making you tense like this?”

“It’s alright, it’s just the heat.”

Renjun hummed again but held unto his hand until it was time to get up and wait for the newly wed by the door.

*

The reception was later in the evening. Lord Lee’s ballroom was a sight, twinkling with crystal chandeliers, golden-brimmed wine glasses and diamonds, filled with chatter and laughs, with little cousins running and scuffing their bony knees, and with the barely concealed drunken joy of the couple’s friends.

“If you don’t dance with me, I’ll cry!” yelled Donghyuck, in yet another white lacey outfit, the yellow diamond – that had been a wedding gift from his parents – sparkling to remember them all it was worth more than their miserable aristocratic lives. Jeno shrunk on his seat, shaking his head.

“You only want to step on my toes!” he whined over the thunder of Jaemin’s laugh.

“What a milksop you are, come o-o-o-o-o-o-on! Junnie, make him dance with me, now!”

Mark was nowhere to be seen, and Renjun had his mean smile on, so Jeno knew he was doomed. Donghyuck – “Please stop saying my name poshly like that, we’re basically brothers now, you should call me Hyuck too” – hogged him for three dances, surprisingly well behaved and dancing perfectly.

“Can’t believe you really fell for Mark’s tale,” Hyuck panted, as they chased a servant for more champagne, “I have never in my life been a bad dancer, he’s the clumsy one. I married a fool,” he giggled, “oh dear, I _married_ a fool!”

Laughing along, Jeno couldn’t help but be a little jealous. He’d only have to wait three more months, but at that moment, drunk on wine, music and the party’s magic he felt as if the months were years until he, too, would be able to say those words.

“If it isn’t a very drunk Mr. Lee that I see,” Jaemin said, appearing out of thin air while Hyuck sprung off looking for Mark. “Have you drunk any water tonight?”

“Champagne is way tastier.”

“Sweet heavens, look at you.”

“Where’s Jun?”

“Bullying Jisung to eat an entire tray of hors d’ouvre without choking,” he sounded defeated, and also sober. “And I thought college kids drank a lot… you lot can outdrink any of my mates.”

The band changed into a slower piece, and Jeno spotted Mark walking off their little stage into Hyuck’s arms. In that moment, they were all the beauty and happiness anyone could ever dream of.

“Jaemin?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Would you allow me to take you for a dance?”

Jaemin’s eyes bulged, and he looked around frantically.

“Don’t be silly, Jeno.”

“I mean it.”

“Are you– your whole family is here!”

“Exactly, and in just a few months they’ll be your family too, they better get used to us.”

“How do we even do this? I only know how to lead!”

“Come here,” Jeno took his hand and guided them forward on a whim. “A hand on my shoulder, yes, and now hold my hand like this, good. Now relax,” he smiled, knowing he was probably blushing and slurring a little, but too entranced by the light in Jaemin’s eyes to care. “Just follow me.”

Every time they moved, he could see people staring, their whispers tiding the shock around the room like waves. Mark winked at him when they passed by each other. Sir John, dancing with Hyuck’s father, was clearly holding back a laugh. More whispers, eyes following them and next looking at Renjun, who was busy fighting a champagne flute off Chenle’s hands.

“We should stop,” Jaemin whispered, fumbling over a step.

“Focus, _darling_. And the song isn’t over.”

“I don’t like the way your grandfather is looking at me.”

Lord Lee was at the end of the room, surrounded by other nobles, his face contorted with an ugly grimace. Renjun’s grandfather, a few seats away, looked amused.

Jeno had no idea where his father was.

“Ignore him, it’s good practice for the rest of your life.”

“What do you mean?”

Sir Doyoung’s eyes crossed with Jeno’s, who gripped Jaemin’s waist tighter and held the look, watching as all blood seemed to leave his father’s face.

“Lord Lee likes to be mean, we must live under the pretence that we’re unable to hear what he says.”

Jaemin’s feet stopped, but Jeno kept carrying him, although his face had crumbled with something like fear.

“Did something happen?” he asked, but Jeno felt too drunk to explain his family’s politics.

What he actually felt like doing was kissing Jaemin. They were already close, almost nose to nose, speaking in half-muted whispers, hands clasped tight because Jaemin wasn’t the easiest to lead. Taking a breath, Jeno tilted his head, and just then the song ended.

“Let’s go back to the table,” Jaemin said, gently untangling them.

Renjun looked at them as they walked up to him, smile hidden by his glass. The peal choker he was wearing early was open on the table, his pretty neck all bare and flushed from the alcohol, contrasting with the deep blue satin of his blouse.

“That was lovely,” he said, nudging Jaemin to sit beside him and lay his head on his shoulder. Jaemin stole a kiss against his collarbones. “I’m ready for the scandal.”

Jeno stumbled into a chair beside Jisung, who looked mildly alarmed.

“I’m too drunk to be nervous now,” he confessed. “Let’s leave the stress for tomorrow, Jaem ruined me, he didn’t relax for a second there.”

“At least I didn’t step on your toes.”

“I should’ve stepped on _yours_ , but even panicking you’re still hot,” he confessed.

Jisung hiccupped and Jeno pushed a forgotten whisky tumbler on his hand and giggled. The world was waving around him like the sea.

“He’s _so_ sloshed,” he heard Mark say from somewhere, but didn’t bother opening his eyes to look for him. If anything, he sounded equally drunk. “It wasn’t _my_ fault!”

A hand pushed Jeno’s hair off his face, and by the feel and the sting of the ring he knew it was Renjun.

“You damned helpless alphas. No Chenle, not now. What?”

Renjun’s hand left.

“Well if it isn’t my job now to carry you.” Jaemin’s voice was once again like a balm to his dizzy mind. “Get up, big boy.”

Jeno opened his eyes, trying to focus on his face framed by stray pieces of hair. The word was fully spinning. He got up on wobbly legs and held onto Jaemin’s shoulder for life.

“Your voice is so hot,” was the last thing he remembered saying, and then everything was a blur.

*

The hangover the next day was brutal, but at least was shared by everyone. Well, not everyone: Jaemin appeared after breakfast fresh-faced and rosy-cheeked after riding on Sterling from the Huang estate to inform them Chenle had presented.

“He’s about to turn, uh, sixteen, right?” mumbled Mr. Moon from the loveseat in the darkest corner of Jeno’s study. “Expected.”

“The real news, however, are that he presented as an _alpha_.”

“He _what_?” Jeno screeched, then immediately regretted the outburst because it made his head hurt more. “Chenle, our Chenle, is an alpha?”

“I guess we all made the same mistake twice,” Jaemin sighed, pulling random books out of shelves to inspect them. Dazed, Jeno took a while to remember what he was refencing.

“Oh, right, just like you. How does it happen twice?”

“We’re over conditioned to associate gentler and more extravagant characters with omegas,” Mr. Moon quipped, eyes following Jaemin. “You were expected to be an omega?”

“All the men in dad’s family are omegas, it’s been like this for generations. And I was playful and soft, very shy around alphas. When I presented my parents had no idea what to do, I was supposed to attend the same omega academy my father had, and then… bam, change of plan, I’ll be following mum’s steps instead.”

“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

“Alpha boarding schools are brutal, I missed my family and the city, and then college was a vast waste of effort and resources, because I wasn’t cut to sit all day studying and bootlicking the professors.”

“I noticed you like the horses.”

“Yes, I wanted to be a jockey. Wasn’t allowed to, of course, but it’s still my passion.”

Jeno, head laying on the table, watched the exchange. Moon seemed curious about Jaemin, watching the way he moved around and casually played with the trinkets on the mantlepiece, too worked up to sit down.

“Have any of you realised Chenle is Baron Zhong, now? The next Earl of Weishen,” Mr. Moon said and Jeno sat up, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes.

“Oh heavens,” he sighed, feeling as if something massive had been lifted off his shoulders, “this is a miracle.”

Jaemin finally sat down, head between his hands, laughing silently.

“Bloody hell, I’m so– good gracious. No, we hadn’t thought about this, no. Injun probably did, damn, a miracle indeed,” he blabbered, transfixed.

Moon looked between them worriedly.

“What is the commotion about?”

“Lord Zhong literally sat us down to talk about our responsibility to eventually produce an alpha heir for the title,” Jeno said, slumping back on his chair. All his books were stacked on the corner of the table, but he knew it was going to be a useless day. “He was very nice about the issue, no pressuring or bullying, but still… big weight to carry.”

A grave silence stretched between them. Jeno had spent the whole conversation with a strong impression Mr. Moon was there under his father’s orders to chaperone them and decided it was time to test the theory.

“ _Nana_ ,” he called softly, “will you stay for lunch?”

Jaemin gave him a puzzled look: he would be leaving back to the city in a few hours and Jeno knew it already.

“No, I had to get tickets for the midday train. By the by, I should be going, my call was just to deliver the news.”

“Alright, I’ll show you out, then,” Jeno mumbled, getting up. Grumbling, Moon rose as well.

“Convey our goodbyes to your father, too,” Jaemin said, winking swiftly at Jeno.

“Sure will,” he replied, holding onto Jaemin’s arm as they walked down the halls and stairs, “I feel like we haven’t spent any time with you.”

“It’s fine, darling, me and Jisung came just for the wedding. You’ll see us in the city next month anyway.”

They stopped by the driveway, waiting for the boy to bring Sterling back around. Moon still watched them from the shade of the portico, and Jeno mentally rolled his eyes at his father for forcing all of them into such an awkward situation.

“Uncle John said Uncle Jeffrey will be staying with him next month as well, you’ll finally meet him,” he said. Jaemin nodded, looking distracted. His hair was still tousled from the ride, and his eyes looked sad. “You really like it in here, don’t you?”

“Remember how I said your county is beautiful but couldn’t change my heart?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t my heart that needed changing, after all. I had to get my mind straight and admit there would never be any happiness for me in living isolated, alienating myself. Every time I look at this park, I think about this.”

Jeno nodded, squeezing his hand as a sign of understanding. From the corner of his eye he saw the gardener cross the path with a wheelbarrow full of dried-out weed, coming back from cleaning the old garden by the East wing they would start renovating the following week.

A gentle pressure on the back of his head made him turn around, and Jaemin’s hand slid over his neck and jaw. The kiss wasn’t unexpected, and yet Jeno felt surprised at Jaemin’s confidence.

“I’ll miss you,” he whined, refusing to look around. By sound he knew Sterling and the stable boy were close. “Why do I have to manage the renovations if you were the one studying Architecture?”

“Because I bloody hate Architecture, that’s why,” Jaemin laughed and kissed him again. “Now go back inside and sleep, you look like hell.”

He watched Jaemin mount and ride off, the bout of energy he’d brought along gone. Turning back to the house, Jeno passed by Mr. Moon, whose face was unreadable, and slithered back to bed.

*

The East wing renovations started on a Tuesday, when he and Renjun sat down with the architect Mrs. Na had referred them to decide on walls that would be knocked down, rooms that would change function, and how many yards of wallpaper they had to order.

It was an annoying but necessary ordeal. Jeno would have much preferred to turn the guest house at the northern edge of the estate into their home, but his father had been insistent on them staying in the manor, so the mostly empty East wing was chosen, to give them some autonomy while keeping to Sir Doyoung’s wishes.

“Sir Doyoung would be lonely,” Mr. Moon countered, “with you out of the house.”

“How come? Father barely even acknowledges me.”

“But he is very aware of your presence upstairs, of how you look at every meal, of how long you spend outdoors. Don’t fall into the trap of believing your father doesn’t care for or loves you, Jeno. Now you’ll be on equal footing to him, reach out, be his friend.”

That was another hard reality. With his marriage, Jeno would be considered completely independent, and have no need for a tutor anymore. Moon had already found a new position on another county, to take effect in December while they would be away on the honeymoon. Saying goodbye, and more so, acknowledging Moon wasn’t actually part of his family, was so upsetting it dampened some of his lovesick joy.

“We can always invite him over for the holidays,” Renjun said when Jeno confessed his sorrow, “ask him to visit us, see Hyuck…” he trailed off, pensive. “Eventually Mr. Qian will move, too… wonder how we will all be, by then.”

After the architect left back to town, they wandered about their garden, where flowerbeds were being prepared and a greenhouse for vegetables was under construction. Renjun looked up, trying to gauge which room would be better for his studio. Jeno’s head was still spinning around the problem of the three bedrooms.

“You should take the room by the end of the corridor,” he said.

“Uh? No, not enough windows.”

“For your bedroom, I mean.”

“Oh, yes, sure. Then open doors on both walls, not bad.”

“Use the upstairs drawing room for the studio, too. We already have another drawing room downstairs, the parlour, and that little room by the solarium, it’s enough. I was thinking the old smoke room could be Jaemin’s study.”

Renjun looked back into the building, frowning.

“Right across form your study?”

“Yes, why?”

“No, that’s good, actually. Heavens, the shit people will talk when everybody realises Jaemin is going to work for your father.”

“There is no gossip on this earth worth not having someone to do the accounting for me,” Jeno sighed, taking a chuckling Renjun’s arm, “don’t laugh, I can’t tame father’s books even with Moon’s help, someone with more resolve needs to step in.”

Jeno chose a mare, as docile and slow paced as possible, to take Renjun back home. Getting Renjun to ride was always tough work, never mind he’d been taught young and had grown up with friends who were always on horses.

As he did his best to avoid joggling them around, Jeno thought he should have been less romantic and taken the car.

“Please relax or you’ll get back pains,” he warned, kissing Renjun’s shoulder.

“Easy for you to say,” Renjun replied through gritted teeth. “Don’t try to seduce me, I’m scared.”

“We’re going down an empty road, slowly, on my gentlest mare, and I’m holding you. Nothing is going to happen.”

“You always use the same arguments, and I mean _always_ , ever since we were kids.”

“And did you ever fall or get hurt?”

“No,” Renjun grumbled, and relaxed slightly “But I’m calling dibs on the car for the rest of our lives, I’ll buy one just for myself if I have to.” The soft slope of the lake shore appeared to their right, covered in tall grass and tiny pink flowers, and Jeno watched as Renjun’s focus shifted to them. “It’ll be strange to see the forest instead of the lake from my bedroom,” he mused, “when we first moved here, I used to be afraid of the lake at night, only later I started to… I don’t know, bond with the water, I guess. The mood of the lake was my mood for the day: foggy, clear, undulating.”

“You used to quote the lake as if it was a fortune teller.”

“I am being silly? I’ll be living minutes away from here, it’s not like the whole lake will disappear.”

When Jeno was a child, the nursery was on the part of the manor that faced West. It was gloomy during the day, and full of shadows at night, but at dusk long stripes of orange light danced on the floor and walls of his rooms, turning his mother’s white day clothes into gold. After Lady Jane passed away, his father had moved him to another room, the same he still slept on, facing the front yard. Yet, he sometimes dreamt of his old room with its shadows and golden light, little mementos of his mother’s existence.

“No,” he said. Suddenly, he felt a bittersweet grief for his childhood, now to be officially over. “No, you’re not silly.”

*

From across the table, Sir Doyoung’s looked as displeased as one could get, contrasting with his perfect tie and perfectly parted hair.

“You cannot mean to–”

“They’re both part of the family,” Jeno said, cutting the steak carefully to avoid showing his anger.

“Don’t pretend to be stupid, you know what I mean. Your grandfather–”

“Is not part of and is not paying for our wedding.”

“Still, it’s… disrespectful.”

It was the final straw. Jeno put his silverware down with a clank and straightened on his seat, looking his father in the eye. Mr. Moon looked between them, apprehensive, but Jeno ignored him.

“Do you want to know what I find disrespectful? Not inviting my favourite uncle’s spouse for the sake of a man who barely remembers I exist, who despises my future spouses and who is a bigoted reactionary that thinks he can keep the whole family on a leash.”

A heavy silence followed, interrupted only by the sound of the Autumn drizzle spattering on the windows. Sir Doyoung looked livid, dark eyes large and ears flaming red.

“Listen here, young man. You might think you own the world but there are _rules_ to be followed! Your uncle had all the best intentions but what he did was _selfish_ , and no, do not contradict me on this. He does have the right to do as he pleases as head of his family, but he never thought about consequences! He could have jeopardised your entire future, or he might have, we don’t know yet, and now _you_ want to be lenient to his irresponsibility? What for? So that people can create more rumours?”

Jeno gripped the edge of the table, knuckles going white. The servants were so still they could be statues, their eyes downcast. Mr. Moon was looking intently as his plate, too.

“What rumours?” Jeno asked, sharp, and upon the continued silence he stood up and repeated himself. “What _rumours_?”

“You know well what rumours! The entire party was staring at you! My father, my brother, and even the staff were talking about that spectacle you made with Mr. Na!”

Eyes burning, Jeno pulled his chair back, horrified at the disgust in his father’s voice.

“Why are you so cruel?” he asked, scrunching up his face to avoid tears. “You think my mother would agree of how you treat her brother? Of how you’re treating me? Jaemin– I won’t stand this treatment of him! Even if I have to fight with you for the rest of my life, I won’t!”

Sir Doyoung stood up in a rush, his chair making a horrible screeching noise against the floor.

“Taeyong said the same thing about Nakamoto, back then,” he said, and Jeno’s blood ran cold. “Then Taeyong destroyed his relationship with both father _and_ his husband. Do you know what Nakamoto said to your mother before he took off with Mark? That he should have been warned of how poisonous our family was, and that she should leave while it was time.”

“I would n–”

“Fool me once, shame on them; fool me twice, shame on me. I will not, ever, allow the same mistake to happen twice.”

“You think– you think standing up for someone I love is a _mistake_?”

“Passions are fickle, the heart changes, but the world not so much, son. Learn to play by the rules and–”

“This isn’t about bloody rules! It’s about how you treat us! I know full well how the world sees and treats anything out of ordinary! But I’d like to believe in my own home, with my own parent, me, and the people I chose to love, will find respect and peace. You don’t have to love Jaemin like a son, the same you don’t have to mind Mr. Ten as a brother, but you have no right to talk in such manner about my, I repeat, _my_ own family!”

It hurt, to look at the very rooms he had grown up in, at the people who had raised him, and see all of them turn their backs to his plea. Such a simple plea of dignity, yet that apparently was too much to ask for.

He stormed out of the room, headed straight for the stables. Gift, the beautiful pureblood he’d gotten for his eighteenth birthday, was the first to greet him, the horse’s soulful eyes seemingly full of compassion.

“Let’s go for a run, buddy,” Jeno whispered, caressing his mane.

The spattering rain turned into a downpour as they went down the park, over the slopping hills that surrounded the land. Water stung in his eyes, but Jeno didn’t bother wiping it away, instead braving against the icy blows of the wind.

How disheartening it was to be compared to his uncle, how afraid it made him. Rationally, he knew the fear was unfounded, that the three of them weren’t volatile enough to make the same mistakes, that their personalities were strong, and they had friends to call them out. But, a small perverse voice in his head kept saying, Sir Taeyong had those same things, and yet there he was, trapped in his manor, empty handed and blank hearted.

He passed by the outskirts of Lord Lee’s land, seeing the lines of the manor surrounded by manicured maze gardens. Inside of it, a marriage had fought and lost, leaving behind three people to pick up their pieces. At least Mark had Donghyuck, now.

The lake was a convulsing darkness, the shrubbery around it whispering a furious melody with the wind. Light from the house beamed onto the water, dancing on the sheets of rain.

“Master Jeno!” one of the maids exclaimed when he rode by the backyard. Breaking out of his trance, he waved at her. “Why are you out on a weather like this? Oh, I’ll fetch the stable boy and some towels, do not worry!”

He dismounted as she ran back into the house. His own house would be quiet at that hour, but the Huangs kept up late, and he could see the staff bustling around, windows alight on all the floors, an overall feeling of _life_ emerging from the home.

Someone must have called upstairs, because as soon as he was rushed through the door and the towels arrived, Renjun was there.

“What happened?” he asked, eyes deadly serious as his quick hands rubbed water off Jeno’s hair and face.

“Father… we had an argument.”

Renjun nodded, taking him by the hand.

“You’re freezing,” he whispered, alarmed, “how long have you been outside?”

“I don’t know, since dinnertime?”

“Heavens,” his face fell, “that was hours ago, come on, we’ll get you dry clothes and keep you by the fire.”

As his body warmed up, gently coerced by the fireplace and many blankets, Jeno felt his senses come back to him. He had never, in all his life, outright argued with his father, much less yelled like that. Neither of them liked commotions, their lives were a quest for quietude and control, so their relationship had always been of tense limits negotiation, even when Jeno was a ridiculous moody child.

He knew himself and knew he could never live to fight his father every day.

“Do you want to talk?” Renjun asked lowly, voice warm like the fire.

Jeno tried to be strong, to see beyond the hurt and tell him what was happening, so they could, together, think of a way to live through that. He tried, but in the end all he could do was curl up on the sofa they were sharing and hide his tears on Renjun’s lap, accept the quiet reassurances and the careful hand on his hair, crying out of fear and frustration, weak and lost just like he was as a child.

“Can I stay here?” he asked through a broken sob. Renjun wiped the tears off his cheeks and nodded.

“There’s a room waiting already, come on.”

The guest room was small and toasty, serviced by another fireplace with a teapot whistling on top. Renjun busied himself with the tea while Jeno changed into soft pyjamas and got inside the covers.

“Here, it’s peppermint and ginger, will make you feel warm and nice.”

“Thank you. Smells good.”

Renjun nodded, hovering by the bed. His eyes kept running over Jeno’s face, his lips pressed together.

“I can stay until you fall asleep.”

“It’s late, you should be in bed already.”

“It’s fine,” he said, getting on the bed over the covers and holding Jeno’s free hand. “We can sleep in tomorrow, and after lunch, if the weather is nice, we can ask for the boat and row around the lake, what do you think?”

A warmth that stemmed from the fire and the tea, but had nothing to do with them, blossomed in Jeno’s chest.

“I love you,” he said, laying his head on Renjun’s shoulder, their joint hands squished between them. “Please don’t give up on me.”

“I’d never,” Renjun said back, turning to kiss the top of his head. “Now sleep, we’re home and I’m here, nothing is going to happen.”

*

They had forgotten to close the curtains, so Jeno woke up with the sun playing behind his eyelids. Renjun had fallen asleep beside him, and some time over the night had taken off his dressing gown and burrowed under the covers. He looked bright and rosy in his sleep, hair tousled on the pillow, lips parted on a pout, the heat of his body filling the whole bed. Jeno smiled and hesitantly touched his cheek.

He was burning up.

Startled, Jeno sat up. How come he spent hours under the rain but Renjun had a fever? He pressed a hand to his fiancé’s forehead, feeling the searing under the skin; his neck was even warmer. Worry weighted on his thoughts, and he was about to get up and call someone when his sleep addled brain caught up to time and day.

“Renjun,” he whispered, moving away from him, “wake up, you’re in heat.”

He obviously had never seen Renjun, or any other omega for that matter, in heat. It just wasn’t decent to visit people as they struggled through the stress of too many hormones and too little to do with them.

“Mmmn?”

“You’re in heat.”

“I know, stupid,” Renjun mumbled, rolling over, “shut up I’m sleeping.”

If Jeno thought about it he could feel the tightening on the back of his throat and the pull behind his navel from his body reacting, but it was like a less conscious version of what he felt on a make out session. Renjun’s squished face and pout were still attractive.

“I have to get up,” he whispered, looking at the door.

“Don’t you dare,” came the threat from the depths of the covers. “Your pillow smells good.”

“It’s the linen soap,” he replied, mildly terrified. What if Mr. Huang beat him up for being in bed with an in-heat Renjun? “I’m serious, your parents are going to kill me.”

“What?” sitting up, Renjun rubbed his eyes. “What for?”

“I mean…”

“Please don’t tell me you think they’ll think we’re actually… You’re disgusting and keeping me awake, shut the hell up and stay put, you smell nice and I was having this very funny dream about a stuffed bear…” he trailed off, hugging the pillow that Jeno had slept in.

Jeno himself decided to sit as quietly as possible until some deity took mercy on him and sent help.

“Master Jeno, may I come in?” came the voice of the housekeeper, Mrs. Kim, a while later. She was a steely woman, daughter of Lady Huang’s old nanny, and Jeno rather liked her.

“Yes,” he replied, a little meek. When her eyes fell on Renjun’s sleeping form he smiled as innocently as he could. “Could you call Lady Huang up? Renjun is… feverish.”

“Feverish,” she repeated slowly, eyes knowing. “Very good, sir, I’ll call milady.”

Lady Huang arrived a minute later, very pretty in her day dress and with a teasing smile.

“He’s worse than my brother Sicheng, I swear,” she said, smoothing her son’s hair. “Too proud for his own good. At ease, Jeno, you’re not in trouble. Actually, you’re a blessing right now.”

“Uh? I mean– how come?”

She sat down on a chair by the window and started playing with the chain of her watch.

“I take that neither Jun nor Jaemin explained this to you, then. Basically, Renjun has a condition he inherited from my side of the family, something that used to be called Unmated Omega Hysteria, but now it’s called Hyperresponsive Pheromone Syndrome. It makes sexually mature omegas hyperaware of the absence of a mate and leads to fatigue, nausea, loss of appetite, sometimes a chemically induced depression; the good news is that is disappears when we’re mated, the bad news is that my overly _stubborn_ son decided to be like his _stupid_ uncle and just endure it for as long as he could, which means I’ve spent the last four years watching my baby drag himself around the house throwing up every month.”

“Bloody hell–” he choked, then caught himself. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Bloody hell, indeed,” she said, looking exasperatedly at Renjun. “When Jaemin was here he felt good, of course, having a potential mate around diminishes the symptoms. But after he left no matter what I said, nothing convinced Jun to just send you a note and invite you to sit around with him for a few days.”

“That was stupid, I would have come at any minute.”

“That’s what I told him!”

“Mum, you’re embarrassing me-e-e,” Renjun muttered, curling up. Jeno slapped his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you just _ask me_ , you utter fool?”

Lady Huang snickered and stood up.

“I’ll leave you to your devices. Breakfast is coming up in ten, _behave_.”

Jeno watched her leave with his mouth agape, shocked at how trusting she was of him.

“Don’t hit me, rude. And I didn’t– I don’t want to look like a desperate needy omega, it’s humiliating.”

“Is that what you and Jaemin were fighting about the night I came back from the city?”

“Yes, he wanted me to tell you,” Renjun pouted, borrowing further into the covers. Jeno really wanted to kiss him but didn’t know if it would be a good idea.

“You should have,” he said, settling for playing with Renjun’s hair. “It’s an issue you can’t control, there’s no shame in that. Besides, your jealousy about me and Jaemin is _wa-a-ay_ needier…”

“That doesn’t count!” Renjun exclaimed just as the housekeeper walked in with a tray. “It doesn’t at all!”

Exchanging a look with Jeno, Mrs. Kim started serving the food on the table by the fireplace.

“How is your appetite, Master Renjun?”

“Good,” he gruffly admitted.

“Do you want anything else?”

“No, Mrs. Kim, thank you.”

She winked at them and left, once again starling Jeno.

“Your family is even more liberal than I thought,” he confessed. Renjun, already up and setting up the tea looked back at him with a puzzled look. “I don’t think anyone else would leave their omega kid in heat with their alpha fiancé alone in a bedroom like this.”

“They know I’m not dumb enough to do things I’m not supposed to. And if you tried anything I didn’t agree to, I’d scream and stab you with a butter knife,” Renjun smiled sweetly. Jeno raised his hands in defeat.

“Fair enough. You eat your eggs with runny yolk?” he asked as he sat down, grabbing a piece of toast. “Disgusting.”

“Get used to it, Nana likes them too.”

“You’re both deranged. Get me the bacon.”

After some time filled with munching sounds and the occasional rattle of the wind against the windows, Renjun put down his cup and rested his cheek on his hand.

“What happened last night?”

“My father refuses to invite Mr. Ten to the wedding, we started arguing about this, he then implied Jaemin was a mistake, I got mad and ran off,” Jeno said. Renjun kept looking at him, as if knowing he was leaving things out. “He compared my decision to marry you both to Uncle Taeyong’s marriage, basically said we’re set to fail.”

“No wonder you were so upset.”

“I’m feeling better now, though.”

“I like your father, you know that, he’s clever, hard-working, always seemed to like me. I don’t know where he’s coming from, now.”

“He’s parroting my grandfather, and he’s worried about out reputation, too. People got a rise out of me and Jaem dancing at Mark’s wedding.”

“How the hell is he only worried about reputation _now_? Sir John has been married for months, my uncle got arrested for screaming in a Member of Parliament’s face last week, and everyone calls Lord Lee, pardon my honesty, an ailing _ruin_. Of all the families involved Jaemin’s has the cleanest record, his father even comes from a family of royal staff, for heaven’s sake.”

“I guess he’s only just realising what people around us gossip about.”

“Ridiculous, all of this.” Renjun got up and rang the bell, asked the maid for the box of wedding invitations from the drawing room. “I can’t be bothered to worry. My father will sign Sir John’s invitation and that’s the end of it. After we’re married let’s wait and see if Sir Doyoung has the backbone to criticise Jaemin to his face, or _mine_ , for that matter.”

The maid came back with the box and a silver tray with the mail.

“Anything else, sir?”

“Tell my mother I’ll stay upstairs for the day, thank you. Alright, a note from Mr. Moon, he wants to know if you’re here and if you are, asks you to write back to him.”

Jeno took the paper and pen, writing down a short confirmation of his well being and leaving out when he intended to return home. Beside him, Renjun had addressed an envelope to “Sir John Seo and Husband” and slotted it back on the box with the other filled envelopes waiting for Mr. Huang’s signature, and was now reading a long letter, frowning.

“Read this,” he thrust the letter in front of Jeno, “it’s from Hyuck.”

_“Jun,_

_I know I keep complaining about this but today it actually reached level of unprecedent offense:_

_We were having breakfast and Lord Lee started his usual sermon which I wasn’t even half listening, he always talks about the same things and I can’t be arsed to care. But then he said my name, so I looked up and he had the GALL to ask me when was I getting PREGNANT and said that’s my job in here, to keep the lineage or whatever, even though I am, quote: “less appropriate than he would desire”._

_I do not exaggerate when I say he talked to me like I’m a breeding cow at his service. I kept quiet at the table because it’s just plain rude to create a ruckus so early. Sir Taeyong isn’t home, or he would have changed the subject. Mark just kept his mouth shut and didn’t look at me for the rest of the meal._

_When I went to him to talk it out – I won’t even call that complain, honestly – Mark just told me to suck it up, that this is Lord Lee’s house and I should learn to be patient and move on, not let what he says get to me._

_Now YOU know I’m not easy to hurt, and honestly, I’m less mad about that petty old man, he always despised me anyway, and more about how utterly indifferent Mark is to this. It’s like he doesn’t care if I’m upset or not, he just gave up and expects me to do the same._

_I don’t blame Mr. Yuta for leaving, if this is what he had to endure while living here. I don’t want to leave or anything of the sort, but one can imagine how hard it was for him to adapt to the country and the house, and have Mark, all while listening to things like these. It’s too much._

_I’m not sure I should be venting about this with you, specifically, with your wedding so close. But at the same time, who else would I be allowed to talk to? I won’t confide on my dad on this, he would get upset and get mum to come here and raise hell. I don’t want a commotion, I just want to, I don’t even know, be left alone._

_I hope you’re feeling well this month, and don’t get angry over this, I’ll find a way to patch things up eventually._

_Many, many hugs and all the love,_

_Hyuck”_

Jeno read the letter over twice before folding it and putting it back on the envelope.

“Mark is going about this all backwards,” he said, frowning. “We figured it was best to be patient, yes, but not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember my grandfather didn’t attend our engagement party? Mark told me it was because he threw a fit about… hell, it’s hard to say this out loud… about our future kids not having straightforward parentage, and that my father shouldn’t have allowed our engagement because he couldn’t allow for a ‘half-breed’ to inherit the title.”

Renjun’s face contorted in disgust.

“And he calls himself a gentleman while saying this. Revolting.”

“Me and Mark had a conversation about this, because the anti-Donghyuck sentiment has been going on since before their engagement. I said I don’t care, Lord Lee can skip our wedding if he wants, Chainmore is my father’s propriety and he has the power to do whatever he wants with it, that’s why his behaviour yesterday affected me so much. And we agreed we’d be patient and keep our heads up.” Jeno sighed, tapping the envelope in front of him. “But not like this. Father said Nakamoto – I mean, Mark’s father – called the family poisonous before leaving, and told my mother to get out as well. The situation is repeating itself, apparently, just on a smaller scale.”

“That’s why you asked me to not give up on you, right?”

“Yes.”

Renjun’s eyes filled with tears, and Jeno rushed to hug and shush him.

“Hey, it’s fine, I’ll tell Mark to make it up to Hyuck, and I’ll never let anyone be rude to you, either. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying, shut up!” Renjun whined; but hugged him back.

Being so close to him was a bad idea. Jeno carefully relaxed his body, keeping himself very still, hips respectfully away and hands above waist. Renjun looked up at him, blinking, and smiled teasingly, sad mood apparently forgotten.

“You react differently from Nana,” he said. “I can see how blown your pupils are, wow.”

“Don’t tease me,” Jeno whined, letting go of him. “How did Jaemin react?”

“Physically nothing worth noticing. He becomes awfully affectionate and sentimental, though. Adorable.”

“Suits him,”

“Mm-hm,” Renjun nodded, getting up and plopping back on the bed, where he curled up against his new favourite pillow once more. “Should’ve guessed you’re too sexually repressed to be as nonchalant about this.”

“I’m not–” Jeno choked, feeling his whole face and neck burning. “I’m not _repressed_!”

“Whatever you say, love.”

He watched as Renjun made himself comfortable, hair a bird’s nest and eyes playful. He was a sly little bastard, but a very attractive one. Sighing, Jeno turned back to the table and uncapped the pen, steading up to send a few words to Mark, as well as a note of comfort for Hyuck.

“Do you want me to write something for Hyuck in your stead?”

“Tell him he’s a silly duck and I love him.”

“Are you sure he won’t kill me if I write this down?”

“Why are you so bent on people assaulting you today?” Renjun mumbled, apparently half asleep again. Jeno turned around to find him with his eyes closed and smiling. “He’ll be glad you’re with me.”

Putting the pen down, Jeno walked over to tuck him in, absentmindedly playing with his hair again.

“Are _you_ glad?” he asked, caving and leaving a quick kiss on the corner of Renjun’s mouth, making him giggle. In-heat Renjun was very precious.

“I love it,” was the reply, mixed with a sleepy chuckle. “Thank heavens you’re ours now.”

Thank heavens indeed, Jeno thought as he got up to close the curtains, feeling awfully domestic. He smiled, finally letting go of previous night’s emotions, and went about writing the many letters due for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I wrote several scenes with Dario Marianelli's score for Jane Eyre and became overly dramatic and emotional? No regrets, though.  
> The last chapter is done but it's also so LONG it will probably take a while for us to finish going over it for revisions, so please put up with the wait, I swear it's worth it!
> 
> And last but not least, thank you so much for the kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which families behave like cheap novel characters, biology lessons are had, and Jeno finally adquires (some) peace of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive delays, yay again! To our defence I can only say online classes are really difficult to adapt to when you haven't signed up for them in the first place. As previously warned, this final chapter is huge and I love it very very much, so I hope you all enjoy it too!
> 
> Marina, as usual, had the best beta-comments, so I love her even if she can't agree with me about Yestoday being one of NCT's best songs (along with Light Bulb now).

With the progressing Autumn, the platform was full of fog made from the condensed steam of the train. Jeno found Sir John’s butler waiting for him with the car, wrapped in a coat to protect his old bones from the gloomy weather.

“Sir John is at work, but Mr. Ten is home already,” he said as they drove.

Jeno nodded, tired. He still wasn’t back to speaking terms with his father, and every day at home drained him a little, despite Renjun’s efforts to distract him.

Mr. Ten welcomed him warmly, asking after Renjun, who he had briefly met after their engagement party, and ushering him upstairs to wash up and change for dinner. Perhaps because he was foreign – Mr. Huang, Chenle and Renjun were as well, technically, but had been living in the country for so long one couldn’t really spot many differences – he had a rather laid back attitude, and the more time Jeno spent with him, the more comfortable he felt.

“Johnny told me your other fiancé is coming for dinner tomorrow,” Mr. Ten said, pouring them two glasses of fine wine after dinner, Sir John still out. “Do you want to suggest anything? For the meal, or activity-wise?”

“No, I’m quite sure Jaemin just wants to see me and meet you and Uncle John.”

“From what I’ve heard, the two of you have become quite the subject for the countryside society.”

“Ah, yes.” Jeno took a sip of the wine, thinking if he should go into detail. “It’s made my father quite upset, too.”

Humming, Mr. Ten stoked the flames in the fireplace, swirling his glass absentmindedly.

“I noticed our invitation came signed by Renjun’s father,” he prompted. Jeno sighed.

“Well, their family is way better at respecting other people,” Jeno replied bitterly. He wasn’t trying to conceal his emotions but couldn’t force himself into badmouthing his father. It was hard enough to do so with Renjun, who had good knowledge and insight into their family dynamics. “It was the easier way to ensure the invitation was addressed correctly.”

“Jeno,” Mr. Ten sat down in front of him, face serious but kind. “It’s important that you understand how unusual your arrangement is. Most people will consider your union to Renjun separate from his and Jaemin’s, it’s the way your society understands triple mating. When they grasp the fact that you and Jaemin are also an entirely independent relationship, they will react in a variety of ways, all stemming from strangeness or prejudice.”

“I know.”

“Conscientiously, yes, but emotionally, not yet,” he smoothed Jeno’s hair, making him blush. “Eventually you’ll become immune to their reactions, but it might take a while. For Jaemin as well, and for Renjun, since many people will blame him.”

Jeno thought of the people staring between them and Renjun at Mark’s reception. The confusion on their faces could easily turn into either pity or hostility: “poor little omega who’s being used”, they could think, or even worse, “degenerate little omega who’s condoning this depravity”. One way or another, it would affect all three of them, and expose them to all sorts of insults.

“Do you reckon I made a mistake? Making our arrangement public, especially so early?”

“No, not necessarily,” Mr. Ten mused, looking out of the room as they heard the front door open and Sir John’s voice. “These are different, daring times. You have the money and the position to demand respect out of people, only it might not work on those who rank higher than yourself.”

*

Jaemin apparently would never stop shaking around Sir John but fell almost instantly in Mr. Ten’s graces. Jeno, sitting between the two of them at the table, had to endure as they talked among each other as if he were invisible, exchanging tortured looks with his amused uncle.

After dinner, the butler brought in the scotch and a box of cigars, and it was time for Mr. Ten to latch onto Jeno, who didn’t smoke and had made a habit of drinking wine because of him. Jaemin, wide-eyed but gracious, accepted a glass of the amber coloured drink and a cigar and retreated to the back of the room to smoke with Sir John.

After a while he sat beside Jeno, smoke still clinging to him like a memory of flames. The last time they had been together, at the driveway of his house, Jaemin had cast the spark that lit the flame of Jeno’s rebellion: if it wasn’t for Jaemin’s boldness, he would never have gathered the courage to speak against his father.

“You know,” he said, stealing a sip from Jaemin’s glass, well aware his uncles were watching but unperturbed, since they wouldn’t judge, “your influence is rather nefarious.”

“How come?” Jaemin asked playfully.

“One feels the strongest impulses of recklessness after being around you.”

“Mmn, you can’t blame me for Injun teasing you like that, he’s always been a devilish little thing.”

“Oh, I know. I’m not talking about Jun.”

Jaemin’s eyes went serious, then a little softer.

“He wrote me about… your family. I’m sorry,” he said. Months before, Jeno would never be able to read him, but now he was versed enough on the Jaemin language to hear the sorrow in his voice and see the guilt in his eyes.

“No, don’t be, it wasn’t your fault in any way. The situation serves me well, otherwise I’d never be honest and confront my father about the way we live.”

“But you’re still quarrelling with him.”

“And it’s not your fault, as much as it wasn’t mine that you decided to leave college and had to fight your parents for that.”

Jaemin sighed and nodded, looking pensively at the fire. In the half light, warmed by the flames and the scotch, he was the most handsome picture humankind could ever create.

“I could say I wish things were easier,” he chuckled, long fingers intertwining with Jeno’s, “but that would be incredibly self-absorbed of me. We are doing well, I’m sure a million other people would wish to have our problems.”

*

Uncle Jeffrey arrived two days later, looking handsome and bored as usual. He was still young, only fifteen years older than Jeno himself, who remembered as a kid witnessing the constant drama of his uncle rejecting marriage proposals left and right, up until he married an alpha so pretty she looked unreal, and they settled in a beautiful home in the suburbs. Her unreal beauty was, after all, a cover-up for a nasty drinking habit and a gambling addiction that threatened to ruin them, so his uncle filed for divorce and spent two whole years in court fighting for it, under the scrutiny of society who deemed him “weak and irresponsible” for leaving his wife to suffer alone.

It had been an overall traumatic experience for the entire family. Sir John had taken upon himself to foot all the court costs, Jeffrey moved back to their country childhood house to avoid the venomous city circles, and even Sir Doyoung offered help contacting good law firms and putting words with people who could help the case. Jeno, a teenager at the time, had exhausted Renjun with talks about the issue, and that at least had a good outcome because their friendship had a turning point after those talks.

Drama aside, Uncle Jeffrey was as teasing as Uncle John, only quieter and more tolerant of Jeno’s paternal family. Which led to an interesting conversation at dinnertime.

“Mark’s wedding was beautiful,” Sir John said casually over the roasted pheasant. “Only Taeyong looked about to die.”

“Really?” hummed Mr. Ten far too casually.

“The _husband_ was there,” Sir John said back, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis.

“I told him he should’ve been better prepared to see Yuta,” Uncle Jeffrey said distractedly, busy cutting the food on his plate, “but he was in denial as usual and nearly ruined the party.”

“You spoke to him recently?”

“He stopped by while the kids were on their honeymoon to complain I didn’t show up for the wedding. As if I would ever go in there to look his father in the face and wish he’d just drop dead already.”

Jeno froze, shocked. Sir John rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Watch how you speak, Jeff. Jeno is right in front of you.”

“Sorry,” Jeffrey shook his head, hair falling attractively over his eyes. “But I’m only one person in the long list of people waiting for Lord Lee to pass away so life can move on. Yuta is probably counting the days as well, because he’s been clear he has no wish to ever go back to Youngie. And from what I’ve heard, Mark’s husband is ready to kill the old man with his bare hands, too. Jeno’s boy will probably feel the same. That man _hates_ omegas, the so-called ‘low-born’ the most.”

Lost, Jeno looked at his older uncle for guidance. The butler’s blank face by the wall reminded him of the servants at his own house when he and his father had argued at dinner.

“Are you quite sure you’ll go through all that hell again, just for Taeyong?” Sir John said, winking at Jeno as if to calm him down. “You’ll be both divorcees, and he’ll be an Earl, too. It’s going to be the greatest scandal for months, maybe years.”

“We’ve gone over this already, Johnny. I was too young to marry him twenty-five years ago, but after he divorces Yuta…”

“Spare me the waxing romanticism, I’m talking reality. Are you _sure_ Taeyong is _worth it_?”

“Oh, shut up, I never asked you if Ten was ‘worth it’!” Uncle Jeffrey exclaimed, making air quotes and grimacing. “He actually told Mark, and the kid is fine with me. That would be the only reason for me to question our decision, of course, because l would never hurt his son, but other than that I literally don’t care. I’ve been waiting most of my life for this, just as you had been waiting for Ten.”

A beat of silence passed, while Jeno processed all the new information, and wondered why Mark hadn’t told him. Then, Sir John picked his silverware up again.

“Fair enough, fair enough. I guess time will tell, when it comes to Taeyong’s backbone, or lack thereof.”

*

_“My dearest Renjun,_

_First, I know you already wrote me and I’m late at replying. Please forgive my procrastinating ways, and rest assured I’ll make up for them when I’m back home._

_It seems like every time I come here there’s some breaking news, and also that all my uncles enjoy withholding information. Last time it was Uncle John and Mr. Ten being secretly married; and now, of all people, Uncle Jeffrey and Uncle Taeyong are planning to get married when my grandfather dies, and Uncle T. can divorce Mr. Yuta!_

_I was so shocked yesterday when Uncle Jeffrey started talking about this, honestly, why are these people so secretive with their own family? From what I could gather, he has been in love, or at least infatuated, with Uncle T. since he was a teen, around the time my parents got married, but because he was too young Uncle T. married Mr. Yuta, and he later married Mrs. Who Must Not Be Named, and we all know how that ended. The word “mess” doesn’t even begin to describe the situation._

_Apparently, Mark knows already, which probably means Hyuck knows, too. Go after them and gossip away, please. I’m also writing Mark to berate him for not telling me, the traitor._

_Uncle Jeffrey also mentioned Hyuck is, by Uncle Taeyong’s words, ready to murder Lord Lee with his own hands. Do you know if things got worse since that letter you showed me? I worry for them._

_Leaving all that behind, Jaemin was the most graceful guest earlier this week, Mr. Ten seems to like him, too. He’s still afraid of Uncle John – heaven knows why – but they ended up bonding after dinner because uncle brought out the fancy cigars – don’t complain about the smoking, you know Jaem likes it – and we had a good talk about quarrelling with parents. But I’m sure he already wrote you about everything we said and did._

_I have been here for less than a week, but I miss you so much it’s embarrassing. I don’t think anyone else gets my jokes but you, I grew unused to how sad life gets when you’re not around teasing me. Your last letter had this funny effect of making me the happiest and simultaneously the most miserable man because it made me miss you more._

_Please keep writing regardless of my feelings, I’m being dramatic for once and it might be Jaemin’s influence. Speaking of: he decided to behave very appropriately and didn’t kiss me even once the whole night, I felt robbed. Tomorrow I’m visiting his family, and we’ll see which game he’ll play in there._

_Hope you’re feeling well these days._

_With all my love,_

_Jeno”_

*

The neighbourhood Jaemin’s family lived in was ever so slightly more lavish than Sir John’s, comprised of houses upon houses with white façades in perfect symmetry, streets filled with men and women of the most respectable sort, and pristine maids opening glass-panelled doors into rooms with brand new carpets. Such new homes were rather strange to Jeno, as not one of the proprieties around Chainmore were less than fifty years old, and their age made them almost alive, as if they were a body of brick and stone rather than an amalgamation of building materials and furniture.

Mrs. Na, who was the architect responsible for most of the houses on the block, showed him around leisurely, only her eyes betraying how proud she felt. It was quite a feature, of course, but Jeno could see the tension on Jaemin’s shoulders.

“So, that’s the legacy you’re giving up,” he said, when they were in the privacy of the study room waiting to be called down for lunch. Jisung, who was sitting by the window, glanced at them as if he felt uncomfortable to be part of the conversation.

“Yes. Awfully bourgeoise, isn’t it?” Jaemin said sharply.

Jeno narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don’t be like this. You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“I guess,” Jaemin sighed, beautiful face cradled by an elegant hand, “mum will never really forgive me for abandoning her. That was always the deal, I belong to mum, Jisung belongs to dad. And now I belong to neither.”

“Children don’t _belong_ to their parents,” Jisung mumbled. He still had his eyes on the book on his lap but hadn’t turned a page in a while. “We care for them as they care for us, but we are not proprieties with an assigned caretaker. I hope with you getting married and living your own life mum and dad actually start to realise this.”

While Jaemin levelled a long, thoughtful look at his brother, Jeno took the opportunity to sit beside him.

“And if they don’t,” he said tentatively, “we’ll still live on and they’ll never have the ground to accuse you of lying to them.”

Jaemin turned to him with sharp eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, and Jeno took a moment to feel amazed at how fast Jaemin was learning to read beneath his words. “Was it your father?”

“No,” he whispered. “Just last night, my uncles were talking, and Uncle Jeffrey broke me the news he and Uncle Taeyong plan to get married after my grandfather dies.”

“What?”

“Exactly how I reacted.”

“Sir Taeyong and… eh, because he hasn’t lived with his husband in years, right?”

“More like decades, Mr. Yuta left when Mark was three-years-old. And Uncle Jeffrey has been divorced for about four years, now.”

“And everyone but you knew?”

“No, only the two of them and Uncle John. Not even father knows, can you believe that? He’ll probably raise hell over it. Uncle Taeyong told Mark recently, and I told Renjun and now you.”

“Maybe this way Sir Doyoung will get over the two of you,” Jisung said from his corner, voice bored. Jeno pressed his lips together to hold his laughter. Jaemin, ears bright red, threw the closest thing at him, which happened to be a pencil. “What?” he asked, “I’m tired of you whining about living with Jeno’s father and being hated by him!”

Unable to hold it anymore, Jeno started laughing uncontrollably. The issue was deadly serious, but he, too, was exhausted of the tense subject. He’d rather be at the races, or some club, or even better: back home with Renjun.

“Jisung is right,” he pitched, earning a groan form Jaemin. “Father might forget us for a while and turn all his conventional wrath on my uncles for a change. It’ll be ugly, but they’re all grown men and can handle it.”

Dinner was a little less formal. Mr. Na was the gentlest male omega Jeno had ever met, and upon close inspection a lot of Jaemin’s personality came from him. Sitting opposite Jaemin, Jeno made a conscious effort to behave as appropriately as possible and leave a good impression.

Nevertheless, some of his efforts went out of the window when it was time to say goodbye. Instead of playing nice, Jaemin decided he was coming along the ride to Sir John’s house, completely ignoring the long look he got from his father. As soon as Jeno finished shaking hands and kissing cheeks and got inside the car, Jaemin threw himself on the seat, and in full view of his parents, basically on Jeno’s lap.

“Your moth–”

“Don’t start,” Jaemin said, closing the door on his family’s faces, “you spend the whole day here and I don’t have a single alone moment?”

Well aware the driver could listen to them, Jeno conceded and quickly arranged them around so Jaemin could rest his head on his shoulder and hopefully be quiet.

Most of the drive was silent, until they passed by the river and Jaemin perked up.

“I was thinking we should spend the honeymoon in Rome, what do you think?”

“I thought we were heading to the seaside?”

“In _November_? That’s depressing. No, let’s visit Rome, we can take Injun to the museums and maybe visit the baths.”

Jeno made a face, and to his horror he could physically feel how it looked like one of his father’s faces.

“The _baths_? Are you trying to commit social suicide?”

“What? Who’s even going to care, anyway?”

“A lot of people, Jaemin. Even to us Italian baths are too proscribed, I’m not some decadent aristocrat taking my young commoner _protégé_ for a tour of the Mediterranean to escape my failing marriage,” he whispered, indignant.

“That’s an oddly specific scenario,” Jaemin said slowly.

“But a quite common one. Rome is good, one of Uncle Jeffrey’s friends lives there, we can ask him to arrange a home for us to rent, Jun will certainly like it because he loved being to Italy. But no baths.”

Jaemin sighed, kissing his cheek, and interlaced their fingers.

“Fine, Mr. Lee. No baths.”

*

_“My dearest Dramatic Fiancé Nº 2,_

_Jaemin’s report of the dinner at Sir John’s was the most dramatic rendition of how he feels at once welcomed and pressured by your family, etcetera, etcetera; all predictable to those well versed in the book of Nana. I think he might be placing all his anxieties on your family to avoid coping with his own. Plus, now MY family wants a piece of the pressure cake, too – my father had an “accidental” encounter with him in the city a few days ago, so get ready for your own Big Talk about what is expected of someone marrying the Perfectly Flawless Most Amazing Elder Son of Mr. Huang._

_On another note: all your uncles are characters of a cheap romance novel. Mark –unsurprisingly – had not told Hyuck, you can imagine the pretty storm he made. Speaking of them, the trouble in paradise consists of Mark being closed-off, Donghyuck compensating by being fussy, they fight, Lord Lee gets involved, Hyuck storms upstairs, Mark shows up a few hours later with some gift and bribes his way back to their bed._

_I worry for them, and at the same time I understand they need their own time and space to figure their challenges. Their courtship was short, and both ignored the signs of what would be problems for them in the future._

_Honestly, I’m glad to at least know most of the personality faults you and Nana have, this way there will be little to no outbursts for us, and if there are, it’ll be either from Jaemin being unreasonable, me being unnecessarily proud or you avoiding conflict until it eats you alive._

_Since we’re in the topic of conflict-avoiding members of the Lee clan, I invited myself to tea with your father (don’t choke on your own spit, it was fine) so we could talk house management, and Jeno management. I dabbed into Jaemin management as well. Please write him, he misses you and feels regretful of the argument, I believe in his mind he thought he had your best interests at heart and eventually understood he forced you to take sides inside your own family._

_As I said before, I like Sir Doyoung very much, and while it’s his own responsibility to act consciously, I believe it’s also our duty as his family to remind him of what truly matters, and gladly for us he listens well. We all know what doomed Lord Lee was his inability to put his own ideas aside and listen to his kids._

_This letter turned serious out of nowhere, I’m sorry._

_I miss you embarrassingly much, too. It’s very boring up here, Chenle is spending the bimester with grandpa, dad as usual is travelling all the time and mum is busy planning the wedding – she leaves nothing for me to handle, and tells me to focus on the renovations of the wing._

_In fact, it’s your father who I see the most, when he comes to check on the workers. The whole upper floor is ready, studio and all. Now we’re working on the studies and bigger rooms, and he provides good advice. Thinking about this, now, I guess what upset us so much with his reservations about Jaemin was our sense of justice, since he’s always so nice to me. I gather we must be patient, as he knew me for years, but not Nana._

_This is so long it might turn into an essay, so I’ll stop for now. Know that I’m anxious for your return and actually enjoy your newfound sense of drama, it’s very entertaining – it might come from your mother’s side of the family, eh?_

_Give Sir John, Mr. Ten and Mr. Jeffrey a hug in my stead, hope you are all in good health._

_Yours,_

_Renjun”_

*

_“Master Renjun of Tea Parties and My Heart,_

_Jaemin fooled me behaving well throughout the day, only to insist on going in the car with me and causing a mild scene. He also had some rather wacky ideas for our honeymoon, but I managed to steer him away from them and settle for Rome. We think you’ll enjoy the city even better now you’re older, and we promise to take you to every museum and monument you desire._

_Uncle Jeffrey has already posted for his friend who lives there to find us a rental villa, and Uncle John insisted on paying for the trip, it’s his wedding present for you._

_What you said is – as usual – on point, my family is very used to you already, and it’s natural for them to welcome you in. For Jaemin they’ll have to work harder, but I believe they’ll enjoy him very much. I certainly enjoy him well enough – don’t start with your dirty thoughts now, we’re being good in your absence._

_There isn’t much to report, actually. Mrs. and Mr. Na seem to like me, probably as an extension of their love for you. They are so ecstatic to have you in their family, it’s heart-warming._

_Which reminds me: our lawyer called just this morning, and you won’t be happy with his verdict of the surname. You will have to take the hyphenated “Lee-Na” – bleurgh – because Lee is supposed to rank higher. But at least in the future you’ll get to be Sir Renjun, which sounds adorable._

_I’m not so sure about writing to father. What will I even write to him about? Uncle John? Jaemin? Those are both delicate subjects now. When I return next week, I’ll just talk to him normally and say something about how I appreciate him taking care of you, which I genuinely do._

_I’ll be meeting your father in two days, guess he respects me more (or rather knows I won’t run from him) and sent a message to set up a luncheon at the club. Wish me luck, although I doubt he’ll be out for blood, and if he is, nothing beats my own father’s lectures._

_Staying in the city is rather tiring, there’s too much to do and people to see, and all the while time seems to be slower. Hopefully in the future I’ll grow more used to it, but for now I only have the mind to say I wish I was back at the country handling the worries of horse trainers and perpetually troubled game-keepers._

_Your most anxious fiancé,_

_Jeno”_

*

_“Jeno,_

_From your letter, Renjun’s talk and my husband’s tantrum, I gather Mr. Jeffrey is being public about his and my father’s future plans. I curse your Seo blood, all of you can’t keep a secret._

_And yes, I think he’ll be a fine companion to dad. Maybe that will fix the permanent sad face father has for as long as I can remember._

_Hyuck is being Hyuck, as usual. I’m trying to do better for him – and failing quite a lot. Eventually things will settle._

_From your pitiful cousin and friend,_

_Mark”_

*

“I cannot believe you thought I would keep those rotten old frames for the pictures in the parlour!” Renjun exclaimed, hitting Jeno’s arm. “I’m an _artist_ , Lee Jeno, I respect the art we have on our walls!”

The architect, standing a few feet away, was clearly struggling to keep a straight face. Jeno pressed his lips together, amused, earning another slap.

“Ow! I’m sorry!”

“Be quiet, what do you think of the walls and sofas?”

“They’re nice.”

“And you’re useless.”

“I have no taste, that’s all. Like you said, you’re the artist.”

“But this is your house, too!”

Jeno sighed, taking another look at the fully furnished parlour and the still half-empty dining room. Everything was beautiful, not too distant from the style on the rest of the house, only brighter because Renjun favoured lighter colours. To Jeno, it felt homely and elegant, and he said so.

“Are you satisfied, Mr. Lee?” asked the architect.

“Very much, yes.”

“Then we should move onto the studies, Master Renjun. They might take as long as your studio upstairs.”

Renjun nodded and pulled Jeno down the hall. He had been back home for mere hours and was already caught up, to his absolute despair, in a whirlwind of decoration and accounting.

As they decided on the things to include in Jeno’s study, Sir Doyoung arrived, acting rather shyly. Renjun immediately went to kiss his cheeks and pull him into the discussion, while Jeno made a point to smile at him, then focused back on the task at hand and left drama to be resolved later.

Renjun stayed for dinner, and kept most of the conversation going, asking about trivial things and the horses. Afterwards, Jeno asked for the car and drove him back home, buying them more time.

“Don’t take the long road, you’re tired,” Renjun said, realising they were taking a turn around the park.

“But I’ve barely talked to you today, as in _really_ talked.”

“You’ll have the rest of your life to talk to me, mister. What you’re looking for isn’t _talking_ at all,” Renjun smirked, playfully rolling his eyes. “I heard Jaemin wasn’t all that affectionate.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Jeno said, parking the car by the lake, where they would be hidden by the dry shrubbery. “Jaemin has no balance, he either smothers me or pretends to be my work mate.”

“Wouldn’t I know,” Renjun mumbled, scooting closer and pulling on the ends of Jeno’s scarf. “You look awful.”

“Thank you so much,” Jeno deadpanned, kissing him quickly. “I’m tired from the train ride, that’s all.”

Shrugging, Renjun kissed him properly, winding his hands on his hair for leverage. They stayed there for a while, too cold to venture into anything daring, only enjoying each other’s presence. The field was gold and red even at night, and Renjun looked especially beautiful under the soft light of the waxing moon as they exchanged random thoughts as if they were precious secrets.

*

Jaemin started to officially move in two weeks later. By then, their rooms were ready, only waiting for the personal touch that would come with time and life. He brought little more than his clothes and photography books, leaving all childhood memorabilia at his parent’s house because he believed that was the place they belonged to.

Jeno watched from the door as he walked around his new bedroom, inspecting the furniture, the bedsheets, the door leading to Renjun’s future room, his hands caressing the sturdy frame of the dresser by the corner, then stopping at an enamel jewellery box on top of it.

“This is antique,” he said, puzzled.

“Yes, used to be my mother’s, back when she was a young girl,” Jeno clarified as Jaemin opened the box, touching the satin lining inside with gentle fingers.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Shrugging, Jeno walked up to him. Renjun would catch up to them in a few minutes, and he needed to get that out of his chest.

“She would have liked you,” he said, even though Jaemin was avoiding his eyes. “Wherever she is, now, she likes you because you make me and Jun happy.”

Jaemin smiled shallowly and placed the box back on the dresser.

“How do you live without her?” he asked. Jeno didn’t know when his mother’s death would stop being taboo for everyone and was starting to think that would never happen.

“With a hole in my heart, I guess. Sometimes I remember her over the most mundane things, and it hurts something horrible, and other times I remember her and can almost feel her presence.”

“I wish I could speak to her.”

“Don’t we all?” said Renjun, walking in and startling them. “Can you come to the drawing room, please?”

They obeyed, although having no idea what about the drawing room needed all three of them. By the door, Renjun smiled nervously.

“What are you tricking us into?” Jaemin asked, grabbing his hand.

“Just… just look.”

Jeno clasped his other hand and opened the door, intrigued. All air left his lungs as he saw the painting on the opposite wall: it depicted Jaemin sitting on a grass field easily recognisable as the clearing, holding a dog-eared book with chocolate smeared fingers, his feet bare and smile wide. Jeno was painted sitting beside him, as they leaned on each other, with his hair mussed from an invisible wind, smiling mostly with his eyes, and with a hand on Jaemin's knee. Both were dressed in white shirts and black trousers, with Jeno's suspenders barely visible as they were loose around his hips. The sky behind them was made in a way to represent dusk, Renjun’s favourite moment of the day.

“Heavens,” Jaemin breathed. “This is…”

“It’s beautiful. Jun,” Jeno turned around, still holding Renjun’s hand, “it’s beautiful.”

“Is it better than the piece I sent to the gallery last winter?” he asked sharply, eyes searching Jeno’s face.

The year before, Mr. Huang had finally convinced Renjun to send a painting for one of his friends’ gallery, even if only for appreciation. The piece, a portrait of Lady Huang facing away in their drawing room, had been bought by Park and Choi, who sent back a note saying it was “well executed, promising of a young artist still exploring possibilities, and to whom they recommend practicing new techniques”.

“I mean…” Jeno was no art critic, not even a teacher like Mr. Qian. “It’s certainly more detailed, and has more… depth? Is that what you call, when the picture looks alive?”

Jaemin, who was still stranded in front of the frame, sighed.

“One can pretty much feel how much we love you, and you love us, just by looking at the painting,” he said, ecstatic.

“Good,” Renjun nodded, untangling himself from Jeno and slumping on a seat. “Good, it works.”

“What works?” Jeno asked, dragging Jaemin to the settee as well.

“Can you tell what moment the picture represents?”

“Yes!” Jaemin exclaimed. “When we proposed to you in the clearing.”

“And the day before, too, because Jaemin has a book and chocolate on his fingers,” Jeno added.

Renjun beamed, wiggling on his seat.

“You see, my theory was that to create an emotional effect on people when they see a picture, I had to appeal to their sense of physical familiarity. Me and Mr. Qian went over this a million times, but the gallery’s review of mum’s portrait didn’t touch on it, so we guessed I had missed the mark. For _this one_ , though, I knew exactly what to use to appeal to you, and now every time you look at the picture, you’ll relive those moments and experience the corresponding feelings.”

“Uh,” Jeno looked back at the painting, letting his eyes wonder over the details. “You’re right.”

“Did I spoil the whole thing for you?” Renjun bit his lip, looking between them.

Sneaking his arms around Renjun’s waist, Jaemin shook his head and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Not at all, we can see you’re happy your idea works. And we like knowing how you came up with something so amazing.”

“Alright,” Renjun sighed, relaxing against Jaemin’s chest. He had a new smile on his face, sated and thoughtful, reminiscent of the way he smiled while in heat. “I’m glad you like it.”

“We love it, truly,” Jeno said, exchanging a look with Jaemin. “Just like we love you.”

*

The door opened slowly, one of the younger maids stepping in.

“Master Renjun,” she said. “Mister Donghyuck is here to see you.”

Renjun’s eyes didn’t leave the canvas in front of him but he nodded.

“Let him up, please.”

The maid, probably astonished at the informality of receiving a guest in the painting studio, looked at Jeno, who nodded as well, and only then she walked off.

With the advent of their rooms being finished, all of Renjun’s tools had already been moved to their new home, which forced him to come every day to paint Chenle’s birthday gift. Both Jeno or Jaemin rejoiced in seeing him that often, even if he hardly left the studio and didn’t stay for dinner because Lady Huang was suffering from acute empty nest syndrome and insisted on having him back before evening.

A minute later, Donghyuck burst in, already slipping off his gloves.

“You could have told me you would be here!” he exclaimed, dropping his elaborate hat on a bench, and completely ignoring Jeno. “I had to ask your mum and she nearly cried.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” said Renjun, giving him a quick look. “And don’t throw your things on my furniture.”

Jeno, who had only come upstairs to ask Renjun about how to arrange their books in the lounge, sighed and gave up. At least no one was waiting for him to go back down, his father was out in town, Mr. Moon organising the old study room and Jaemin busy with the horses.

“What are you obsessing over, anyway?” Donghyuck came forward to spy on the painting, a half-finished rendition of a swan. “Your wedding is two weeks away and you’re painting birds.”

“Shut it. It’s a swan for Lele’s birthday, because he loves The Swan by Saint-Saëns, it was one of the first pieces he learnt how to play.”

“Adorable. I like Saint-Saëns.”

“I know you do, maybe I could paint some skeletons for you, after his _Danse Macabre_. Since you’ll be the death of me.”

Donghyuck’s howling laughter filled the room, and Renjun finally put the paintbrush down, laughing along. They were so different, yet there was this distinct connection, an intimacy Jeno doubted he, Jaemin or Mark would ever achieve with them. But it was beautiful, comforting even, to know they had each other.

“What did you want me for, anyway?” Renjun asked, starting to clean the brushes.

“I was going to ask you to town. Mark is working and I have nothing to do.”

“Oh, how tiresome it must be, to be waited hand and foot by the massive staff of Cherbury Manor.”

“It _is_ tiresome, when the entire staff wants my opinion on everything. The late Lady Lee gave them bad habits, they can’t breathe without asking the mistress of the house about it,” Hyuck said quickly, clearly agitated. Then his eyes landed on Jeno. “Are yours this way, too?”

“Not quite,” he said, thinking. “Mother wasn’t keen on micro-managing the house, from what I heard. And our butler is very efficient, too.”

“Lord Lee hogs the butler all to himself, and I’m left to appease the housekeeper.”

“Truly a plight,” Renjun said sarcastically. “Did you and Mr. Lee the Oldest fight again and you ran away?”

They had got into a habit of calling Mark “Mr. Lee the Oldest” and Jeno “Mr. Lee the Youngest”, something Jaemin had come up with as a joke but that had stuck even with Mr. Moon and Mr. Huang, while Sir Doyoung was yet to say anything on the matter.

“No. I mean… not really. It wasn’t a fight. I’m just taking a breath of fresh air before it becomes a fight.”

“Why are the two of you not getting better? Not everything is Lord Lee’s fault,” contemporised Renjun, sending Jeno a look to keep him quiet.

“We have clashing personalities, that’s all.”

“And so do me and Jaemin, but–”

“And I’ve seen you fight a lot, even over letters. The difference is that Jaemin allows you to control the things you’re better or stronger at, and Mark doesn’t. He has this idiotic sense that if he doesn’t control every aspect of our relationship, I’m going to ruin his life.”

“So much for a lap dog, eh?” Jeno said, and immediately regretted opening his mouth, from the venomous look he got from both omegas. “Listen. You’re right, Hyuck. He is a lap dog with a guard dog syndrome, and if my father were here, he would say it’s something he picked up at boarding school.”

“And what do you reckon I should do, then, Mr. _Obedient_ Lap Dog?”

Jeno thought for a while, putting himself in Donghyuck’s place and in Mark’s as well, although the latter was harder for him to do.

“Maybe try a less confrontational approach,” he finally said.

Renjun hummed, sitting beside his friend. Jeno sought his eyes to gauge if he’d said the right thing and judging by his expression thought the suggestion had been reasonable.

“Yes,” Renjun said. “If the staff is relying on you, then control them, there will be no way for Mark to dispute that. If Sir Taeyong sits with you at tea, have genuine conversations with him, ask about his writing, about Mr. Jeffrey if you’re alone. This way Mark will understand that he can’t control your every move, and that you have no intention of leaving or ruining him.”

Silence filled the room for a few minutes, as the two of them looked at Donghyuck and waited for his reply. Which never came, because Jaemin burst into the room, still on his outdoor clothes, looking dishevelled.

“Injun have you seen– oh, hello. I was looking for Jeno.”

“Here I am.”

“I can see that,” said Jaemin, raising his eyebrows.

Donghyuck took the opportunity to get up from the sofa, give Jaemin a hug and gather his hat and gloves.

“Are you going to try our suggestion?” Renjun called after him.

“We’ll see,” was the nonchalant response, “thanks for the laugh.”

Renjun’s eyes narrowed, but he remained on his seat.

“Anytime, Hyuck,” he said as they watched Donghyuck skip down the hall. “What they really need is a slap on the face, if you ask me. Milksops, both of them.”

*

By a stroke of debatable luck, Renjun’s heat and Jaemin’s rut happened at the same time, and both thought it was an hilarious situation, but Jeno not so much since he had to split his time between the two of them in two different houses.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, his new favourite confidant became Lady Huang, who knew both offenders well and had a great sense of humour. Riding back home on the second day, he also realised he was setting himself up to have an older omega to talk to after Mr. Moon left.

“Jeno-o-o-o-o,” Jaemin whined from the settee he was sprawled on. In-rut Jaemin was the pettiest and poutiest alpha to ever exist, and Jeno was already developing the ability to ignore him without _really_ ignoring him. “How is Injunnie?”

“He slept through the morning, had lunch, then read the book you sent him up until we went down for dinner.”

“I don’t want a list of his activities, I wanna know how he is!”

“He’s good, calm down. A little drowsy, very pretty.”

“You think he’s pretty?”

Jeno raised his eyebrows, holding back the impulse to be reactive. Managing another alpha in rut wasn’t particularly instinctual for his body.

“Yes?”

“You think I’m pretty, too?” Jaemin asked, rolling over so he could smile coquettishly at Jeno from across the room.

“Heavens gracious…” Jeno sighed, walking over and petting Jaemin’s messy hair. Mr. Moon had been keeping an eye on him the whole day, but he hadn’t bothered leaving the guest room he’d been living in. “I find you very pretty, as well.”

“Do you love Injun?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love me?”

As tired as he was, Jeno felt his heart pick up upon hearing the question. Giving in, he sat down at the end of the sofa, so Jaemin could crawl over and curl his body all around him.

“Of course I love you, Jaem.”

*

The next morning, he found Renjun reading in bed, and from the first look they exchanged both started laughing.

“You look totally worn-out,” Renjun said, getting up to inspect him closely. “Is Nana keeping you up all night?”

“Don’t be sleazy, mister,” Jeno blushed while Renjun wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and kissed his cheek. “But really, all you do is sleep, mock me and demand a hug. Jaem needs attention _all the time_ , he woke me up every half an hour or so to talk nonsense.”

“You see, now, why I think he’s supposed to have two mates?”

“What?”

Renjun went back to his warm cocoon, making exasperated gestures to get Jeno into bed too.

“Let’s be honest here. We could be perfectly happy just the two of us, our personalities and views are similar enough, the most that would happen is our marriage turning bland and boring after a couple of years like my parents say theirs did. Nana, on the other hand, needs excitement as much as he needs balance, and having only one of us would burn the relationship out in a matter of months. I certainly couldn’t handle him on my own.”

Jeno hung his jacket and snapped his suspenders off, buying time to think. Renjun kept looking at him, propped up on his throne of pillows.

“You’re so smart, I don’t know why I still get surprised by it. Yes, I think you’re right,” he finally said, laying down.

“That’s no news,” Renjun turned sideways, draping an arm over Jeno’s chest.

Feeling the now familiar pull in the bottom of his stomach, Jeno let himself be cuddled and shrugged.

“Just the truth. You and Jaemin are very much alike, only show it in different ways. I like both.”

*

“How do you even manage to be so fine and relaxed after a rut?” Jeno wondered, watching Jaemin comb his hair for the millionth time that morning. “And hurry, Jun is probably already awake.”

“Be quiet, as if you’re any different.”

“Excuse me? I’m pretty much a wreck every month.”

“The secret is attention and reassurance from a loved one. Now come, Injunnie is waiting.”

On his – probably – last day of heat, Renjun was completely bored. He perked up for a few hours while being smothered by Jaemin, but eventually went back to bed with yet another book. Jeno, finally allowed the tranquillity of having both fiancés in the same room, laid down beside him and fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

He woke up, disoriented by the shadows in the room, by Jaemin’s rumbling voice. A look out the window informed him it was already dusk, and Renjun’s book lay abandoned on the bed.

Jaemin and Renjun were on the window seat, talking about something he couldn’t understand because their voices were too low. Jeno had noticed before they never behaved particularly like a couple, or perhaps their previous behaviour as friends was already so intimate, they felt no need to change.

Only now, they were so intertwined one could barely discern which limbs belonged to who, and every few moments the talk would be interrupted by the sound of lips on lips. Jeno watched as the sun melted under the lake dousing the room in a translucid darkness, and the air was cut by a short, choked moan he could tell came from Jaemin.

Rolling over to smother his face on Renjun’s pillow, Jeno went back to sleep.

*

Jeno greeted the day that marked two weeks before his wedding by waking up from a dream that made his ears burn just from thinking about it. His mouth felt dry and his head fuzzy, and he groaned, realising taking care of Jaemin and Renjun had triggered his own rut.

After asking for breakfast to be sent upstairs and wallowing for a while, he asked if Jaemin was already awake, and in less than five minutes he had an armful of Na Jaemin spluttering worried nonsense.

“No, I don’t feel bad in any way, Jaem, get off me.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jaemin got up from his lap and snatched a piece of toast still on his plate.

“Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“Just bring the pile of books I left on my desk in the library over here, please.”

“Anything else?” he asked. And there it was, one of the many undelaying tones Jaemin’s voice had and Jeno still didn’t know him enough to decipher.

“No, thanks for checking on me.”

A while later, after Jeno had gotten his books – brought by one of the servants, Jaemin had left for the stables already – and brushed his hair to feel a bit more respectable, there was a knock on the door.

“Can I come in?” asked Renjun through the wood. Jeno felt proud of himself for only panicking for a millisecond before agreeing. “You look good.”

“Thank you. You too.”

“I look like a paint stained mess but thank you anyway.”

Renjun made himself comfortable by the window, looking entirely pleased to remain quiet and watch the people move outside, so Jeno went back to work – he really wanted to leave everything in order before spending a whole month away in Rome.

“How’s the painting going?” he asked eventually, taking a break after a particularly hard problem.

“Alright, I’ve started shading the feathers. I hope it’s good enough to compensate me being away for Lele’s birthday, I still feel guilty.”

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care, he’s too busy reading Philosophy and memoirs of dreary politicians.”

“I still worry he’ll lose interest in Music and Art and become a boring posh little alpha.”

Jeno frowned at the spending record in front of him, wondering how a single horse could cost so much money to keep when the same horse’s brother cost less than half. No wonder they were always on the verge of bankruptcy.

“You have to trust your grandfather’s sense. And even if Chenle becomes the richest, poshest little aristocrat in the country he will still have to go back home and get a reality check from your parents,” he said, writing down a stern note for the horse’s keeper to start saving or they would lose major money and sack him.

“Why are you working while in rut?”

“Too much to do before we travel overseas.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right frame of mind for this?”

“I’m alright, why?”

A few beats of silence followed, then he heard Renjun get up.

“You’re so tense I can hear the sound of your pen tearing the paper as you write.”

Jeno looked up to answer but was immediately shut by Renjun grabbing his shoulders and kissing him deeply, made him feel as if his whole skin was turning into lava. Before he could catch himself, he had both hands on Renjun’s waist pulling him closer, and the second he snapped back to reality he let go as if Renjun was the one burning up.

“See?” Renjun whispered in his ear, making him shiver and supress some inarticulate instinctual noise building in his chest. “Sexually repressed. Go lay down and think pleasant things, Jeno.”

And with that he sauntered off the room, reminding Jeno of the fairy creatures that ruined people’s lives in the folk tales his nanny told him many years before.

*

“But that was an exceedingly short rut,” said Jaemin the next afternoon, as they relaxed around the solarium, a worthy substitute for their favourite clearing during the colder months. “Less than forty-eight hours is nothing but a miracle.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Renjun asked, putting down the large cup of tea he had been drinking from and curling closer to Jeno on the couch.

“If you must,” Jaemin said from his spot on the rug in front of them.

“Jeno’s rut started the moment yours ended.”

“What? No, I didn’t–”

“I think you were too tired to notice, Jen, but I could. Your body tried to tail on the end of my heat but not compete with Jaemin, Mr. Qian found a few reports of this being possible and quite common for triple bonds.”

“That’s bizarre. How could I be in rut and not realise?” Jeno wondered, then felt his face go hot under Renjun’s pointed look. “And don’t say it’s because I’m sexually repressed!”

“I wasn’t about to say that, just so you know. I think you were tired and not paying attention, it wasn’t the due date yet, right?”

“How freaky,” Jaemin said with a scrutinising look of his own, “that we are synching like this.”

“It’s normal, omegas typically have synched heats when they live together, too” said Jeno without much thought.

“And how do _you_ know _that_ , Mr. Lee?”

“I had an education, alright? Mr. Moon didn’t just teach me maths and how to read!”

“Jeno’s education was actually more pragmatic than either mine or yours, Nana. Mr. Moon didn’t bother him with Philosophy, Religion or Arts, they went straight for Science.”

“I can still understand the things your mother lends me to read, though,” Jeno pouted, looking at Renjun, who soothed him with a peck on the lips.

“Yes, because you’re clever. Nana, could you _please_ go upstairs and get my paper and lead? I have to start sketching a new ceiling for this room.”

Jeno looked up at the glass ceiling – panes fixed on white-washed metal forming a dome for the circular end of the room, then at an angle for a tiled roof shape for the part that connected it to the house – and wondered what was wrong with it.

“What’s wr–”

“There’s nothing wrong with the room,” Renjun said before he could finish, “but I want to design stained glass.”

“Urgh,” Jaemin rose from the floor and stretched, “you should have been the one to attend that wretched university.”

“Oh yes, if only omegas were allowed in there,” Renjun rolled his eyes, fed up.

Jaemin, obviously regretting his remark since he knew it sounded scornful, leaned down and gave Renjun a kiss. It was probably intended to be something quick and gentle – then when it came to Jaemin one could never know – but in a matter of seconds they were deep on a full kiss, millimetres away from Jeno’s face.

“The paper?” Jaemin whispered, pulling back for a second. Jeno watched mesmerised as Renjun pulled him in again.

“Forget it.”

“Mmraight,” mumbled Jaemin, dropping on Jeno’s lap to get more comfortable.

From that advantage point, Jeno could see as their breaths became more and more laboured, as they clutched each other with a passion he had already come to associate with Jaemin but could hardly comprehend existing within Renjun, his whimsical and nimble Renjun.

Just then, Renjun's hand wondered over to his shoulder and over his neck, making him shudder. In a second Renjun was kissing him instead, slower but more urgent, using both hands to guide the kiss, making Jeno feel like an instrument being played by his hands, blissfully at their mercy.

The kiss was broken only when Jaemin mumbled something and Renjun – now on his knees on the sofa, forcing Jeno to stretch up to reach him – turned Jeno around so Jaemin could kiss him too. Kissing Jaemin wasn't new but never stopped being stunning, with the way he went pliant against Jeno and how that made the kiss feel reassuring in some way.

When he opened his eyes between breaths, Jeno saw that dusk was settling around them, and it was risky to be in that position when the whole room was made of glass and anyone passing by that part of the garden could see them. Yet, he couldn't care for appearances; he only cared about the warm pressure of his fiancés’ bodies around him, and the gentle hand on his chest contrasting with the firm hand behind his neck pushing him into another kiss.

In less than two weeks, he thought, as Jaemin's lips run down his neck after undoing his collar, in less than two weeks they would belong entirely to one another. The caress stopped and he watched them kiss again, lips red and intent, Jaemin sliding further down his lap and forcing him to bite his own lip to suppress a moan, laying his head against the backrest of the sofa in a thrill of pleasure when Renjun's fingers danced over his throat.

In less than two weeks...

*

A few days later, Jeno returned from a visit with their accountant in town to find the dinner table set for four, which meant Renjun would be staying, since Mr. Moon was at the city making arrangements with his future employer. The meal ran calmly, Renjun and Jeno talking about an exposition they expected to see in Rome, Jaemin and Sir Doyoung discussing a tricky case about a mare that would give birth on Winter and therefore have smaller foals.

After they retreated to the drawing room, where they usually had a glass of something – wine for Jeno, whiskey for Sir Doyoung and Jaemin, sherry for Renjun – Sir Doyoung asked the butler for a box he left at his desk. Upon arrival, the box was a simple storage for two smaller boxes.

“This is Jaemin’s,” he said, handing the thin rectangular box over. “And this is Renjun’s,” he gave Renjun the oval box. Both were wrapped in silk and clearly jewellery cases.

Renjun opened his first and let out a tiny exclamation before looking at Jeno with inquisitive eyes. Jaemin opened his slowly, keeping his face neutral. From his seat, Jeno couldn’t see what either of them had, only his father’s face and that told him nothing.

“Sir Doyoung–” Renjun started, then looked back down at the box. Jeno decided he was too nervous for the suspense and got up, immediately finding out Jaemin had a pair of cufflinks and Renjun a necklace.

The cufflinks were simple in design, but featured four well-cut gems that, by colour, Jeno believed to be aquamarines. The necklace, which he could see better, was indeed made of a graded line of aquamarine drops hanging from a fine chain. The stones had an impressive watered-down teal colour but weren’t particularly flashy, and Jeno vaguely remembered seeing the necklace before.

“The gems used to belong to my wife,” his father said smoothly, but Jeno knew from the set of his eyebrows some emotion was stirring beneath the surface. “I thought they would make good gifts from me and her… a way of welcoming you to our family… and thanking you for caring for our son.”

Jeno himself had no idea of what to say, and his fiancés seemed at loss as well. Knowing Jaemin, he would probably start crying in a second, so Jeno took the first step and went up hug Sir Doyoung, who looked mildly alarmed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and felt his father nod against his shoulder. It had been years, maybe, since they had last embraced like that. “This means the world to me.”

“We know, son.”

He knew, had always known, how deeply his mother’s death had hurt his father, and now hoped breathing new life into their family could mend some of his broken heart.

*

Renjun’s new clothes and things arrived the next day exactly one week before the wedding. He would live at his parent’s house until the day of the ceremony, but almost his entire life was at Jeno’s house already.

“It’s a bit of a dream come true,” Jeno said, watching Renjun and his favourite maid organise the closet.

“How so?”

“I always dreamed of having you for sleepovers.”

“And now we’re set for one eternal sleepover party, that will turn _really funny_ when we start raising kids,” Renjun halted, laying a critical eye on the shelves and drawers. “I think we’re done.”

“Will that be all, master?”

“Yes, Minji, thank you.”

The girl bowed to them and left, while Jeno looked curiously at the boxes and hangers surrounding him.

“Do you need all those hats?”

“Hardly, but there’s no swaying my mother when it comes to being prepared. A lot of things aren’t even here, we have already packed for Rome in advance as well,” Renjun said, sitting down on the bed. He looked tired, and not only on account of a whole day unpacking boxes. Something about his eyes and mouth looked off kilter, and there was a trace of apathy in his voice as well.

“You look tired,” Jeno said, watching for his reaction.

“I am.”

“Having any second thoughts?”

A few seconds passed in silence, then Renjun’s shoulders dropped.

“I do wonder…” he trailed off, playing with the pearl pendant. “What if I’m never able to be a good husband for you? Regardless of title, your families are old, well connected, there will always be people and parties and clubs. But my whole life… the best moments of my life are the simplest, you see?”

“I know that, because I feel the same.”

“And I can’t shake the feeling of how I’m not tailored to be in society. Dressing up is fun, having fine wine is nice, only just… I’m not cut like my mother, I’m no natural social butterfly, and trying to be like that wears me out.”

“I don’t see why you would force yourself to,” Jeno said honestly, leaning against the vanity in front of the bed. “If you’re not comfortable with being in society, and it brings you no advantages, just give it a pass.”

“You know well we can’t do that, you and Jaemin can’t parade around society unaccompanied. People talk.”

“Why does people’s opinions matter?”

“It’s not just people’s _opinions_!” Renjun said forcefully, looking up at him. “Hearsay doesn’t matter until it starts claiming I married you for land and title, that I’m inadequate because I’m foreign, or that I refuse to be around your peers because I’m a radical. You _know_ how public opinion treats omegas.”

As vocal as Renjun had always been about gender inequality, the need for spoken validation was a rarity. Jeno knew of his crisis when they passed, after Lady Huang or Mr. Qian had quietened his heart and comforted his soul, because under his resolute pragmatic behaviour, Renjun had a true artist’s soul, an ability to see beyond the obvious that had challenged and enamoured Jeno for years, and that was also responsible for sometimes making him feel like an outsider.

Now, it seemed Jeno was deigned worthy of being privy to his insecurities and of consoling him from them, too. He wished he could run to Lady Huang and ask her for the best way to act, but alas, he had to improvise with his clumsy good faith and all the love he felt. And perhaps that was all she had, too.

“Jun, do you want my honest thoughts on this topic?” he asked, making an effort to keep his body relaxed and voice clear.

“Yes, please.”

“People will talk regardless of what we choose to do, they already do. We also have no need to rush into society, living so far into the country and having most of our obligations around here. What will be your society calls, then? Visiting Hyuck, Jaemin’s dad, Uncle Jeffrey at the manor? I won’t even count your mother, you’ll be there for tea every day to see her and Chenle already. I mean to keep the tradition of spending Spring in the city every year with Uncle John, but even that, Uncle Ten will take you to the theatre or the ballet, show you all the new tea-shops. You’ll have to play husband for me and Jaem when we’re at the races, but you like that already, and you can always take Hyuck with you for the racing season.”

“Well, yes.”

“Bottom line is that personally, as your husband, I don’t want you to give up your life to follow me around like a pretty accessory, and I believe neither does Jaemin. And since society says the alpha spouse has the reins over the couple’s public life, that’s our final ruling. You can live quietly as much as you want, and if you ever become a social butterfly you’re free to do it too, maybe just leave me out of it, take Jaemin instead.”

Renjun chuckled and fell backwards on the mattress. Jeno reasoned that was the right moment to join and laid down beside him. He still looked tired, but the light in his eyes was back, and so was a subtle upwards curve on his lips.

“Thank you,” he said, taking Jeno’s hand.

“What for?”

“Being you, I guess.”

“Thank you for being you, too.”

*

The ceremony was on the same church of Mark and Hyuck’s wedding, a stone chapel in the edge of town with large stained glass windows and a lot of three-hundred-years-old Lee ancestors buried under it – the younger generations having been buried in the mausoleum at the cemetery on the other side of town.

On summer, the chapel was stifling with heat. Midway through Autumn it was nice and chilly, preventing Jeno from sweating too much under his nice frock. Seats to one side of the isle were dedicated to his and Jaemin’s families, while the other was packed with Renjun’s relatives, all the cousins from the Zhong side and the even more cousins from the Huang side who had travelled in just to see him.

Across from Jeno at the altar, Jaemin looked more regal than ever. The aquamarine cufflinks bright against his dark suit, an _avant garde_ brooch pinned to his lapel, but the precious stones couldn’t compete with the beauty in his face every time he smiled anxiously at Jeno, who itched to walk over and kiss him.

“Nervous?” Jeno mouthed. Jaemin nodded and winked, making Jeno laugh, which elicited a sharp look from Sir Doyoung. “Shh.”

Just as Jaemin was about to say something back the organ started playing and the doors opened. It felt like a large flaming rock being dropped in Jeno’s stomach, and he took a big breath.

Renjun looked like a vision in white, the only splashes of colour being his flushed face and the aquamarines around his neck. His smile could compete with the gentle Autumn sun, and his eyes made the diamonds on his hair jealous. The moment he kissed his father’s cheek and offered his hands to them was one Jeno would remember until his dying breath.

If the ceremony was long or short, Jeno had no idea. It was like his head was spinning, and his hands shook miserably when the time to put Renjun’s ring on arrived. They laughed together, as they had always done, and when all three rings were in place, he shared a look with Jaemin, who looked as dazed as him.

The sun was about to set when they walked down the chapel’s front steps, finally married.

“This feels surreal,” Jaemin whispered, as their families ushered them to the road. “I feel surreal.”

“Are you bailing so soon, _husband_?” Renjun said ironically, while his mother and aunts picked up the massive lace train behind him. Jaemin laughed, explosive and cheerful, getting on the carriage first and holding out a hand for Renjun to use as support. Jeno got in afterwards, still too dazed to say much. “Cat got your tongue, _also husband_?”

“I’m sorta feeling dizzy.”

“Don’t throw up on my frock!”

Lady Huang, who was closing the carriage door, crackled so loudly people stared at her. Jeno grimaced apologetically.

“Not that kind of dizzy.”

“It’s the shock, dear,” Lady Huang said through the window. “It will pass in a few months.”

“Months?!” Renjun cried out. “I don’t want to spend months with a stupefied creature, take me back!”

By then the horses had already been whipped and they departed, followed by a wave of good-natured laughs that Jeno hoped would define their time together.

*

They arrived at Chainmore right after Mark and a dishevelled Donghyuck, who probably took a lot of wind to the face on the open car. Since all the guests already had rooms either in the manor or at the Huang’s house, he would be looking brand new in a few hours for the reception.

“It’s still better than enduring the snail-pace your father has that carriage driving, good heavens!” he declared, in response to Mark voicing Jeno’s thoughts.

Jeno helped Renjun down, while Jaemin helped with the lace train.

“Hyuck, my dearest darling,” Renjun called over, “will you help me change?”

“Where’s your mum?”

“Helping her assigned guests, I presume. Just help me out of this lace monstrosity attached to me.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Jaemin – who had two armfuls of fluffy fabric on his person – said. Two of the maids came to his rescue, but he looked regretful to let the lace go.

“You can hang it on your bedroom if you want,” Renjun looked derisively at him. The tiara he was wearing, a dainty piece of diamond stars and pearls, was flashing the same as his eyes under the porch lights. “It’s the only part of the outfit I didn’t quite like. It’s– I don’t know–”

“I didn’t really like mine, either.” said Hyuck. “It’s an heirloom and I appreciate that, but it’s old-fashioned.”

“Also, this corset feels _too tight_ ,” Renjun mumbled as they walked up the stairs like a disjointed procession. “Not like ‘I can’t breathe’ tight, but it’s definitely crushing me.”

“Please don’t tell me you tight-laced,” Hyuck whispered back.

Jeno, who had never in his life seen or heard about Renjun wearing a corset, had his eyes trained on his waist and back, trying to discern what difference the garment made.

“You’re wearing a corset?” Jaemin blurted out, apparently just as surprised.

“Obviously?” Renjun turned to him, and probably saw Jeno’s face, too. “Did you think I’ve been walking around on evening clothes without the underthings all those years?”

“No! Yes?” Jaemin made a face. “But I’ve never seen it before.”

Donghyuck, apparently taking pity on their ignorance, turned back as well.

“Of course you haven’t, Jaemin, it’s underwear! But essentially, omegas need a corset to have the right structure for evening clothes, or formal wear in general. Helps a lot with the posture.”

“I thought it was supposed to make the waist smaller,” Jeno said thoughtlessly, and hoped not tho get slapped by the omegas. He could see the faces the maids were making and as good as they were at hiding their reactions, he could tell they found him and Jaemin dumb.

“That too. I love it,” Hyuck shrugged. “Renjun has no need for waist training, he was born naturally sculped… as you’ll see later tonight, eh?” he winked, earning himself a protest from both Renjun and Mark for being too lewd.

Going into his new bedroom to change as well, Jeno took a moment to reflect. As fun as it was to joke about corsets and drool over exposed necklines, he had fallen in love with Renjun as the boy wearing day-shirts with a soft collar, and it was thinking of him that he had chosen that simple ring that was supposed to represent their union. And was thinking of the thrill of the wind on Jaemin’s face when they raced on the park that he had stood up for himself and defended their choice.

Above all, it was thinking of the joy of their shared moments, as simple as they were, that Jeno had prepared to finally be a real adult.

*

Hosting a wedding reception forced Jeno to realise he was in fact turning into his father and didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention. Renjun seemed neutral about it, since the crowd was just family and friends, while Jaemin was overjoyed with so many people and things to attend to.

Jaemin’s family was an event on themselves: most of the cousins were either way older or way younger than him, and all of the older ones already had children, so Jaemin was now cruising the ballroom surrounded by kids and completely drunk off excitement. The only cousin close to his age was called Jungwoo and had taken up the role of feeding the kids. Soon enough, the children from the other families started joining and Jeno realised his uncles Jeffrey and Taeyoung had been enrolled as glorified nannies as well.

“It just occurred me,” Sir Doyoung – tipsy, rosy cheeked and terrified of children – said from beside him. “John, Ten, Jeff and Youngie are all staying here tonight. And so is–”

“Grandfather,” Jeno finished, and they both cringed. “They’re big boys, let’s trust they won’t kill one another in the middle of the night.”

“Brave words,” his father mumbled. He was watching Donghyuck bully Mr. Moon into asking the kitchen for another batch of sandwiches. “I don’t trust any of them.”

“If Hyuck can resist murderous urges living with the old man himself, so can Uncle Jeffrey.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish,” Jeno chuckled. Mr. Moon left, probably for the kitchen. Renjun was dancing with his uncle Sicheng, who was dressed in the new liberal-omega fashion, with an alpha’s jacket and heeled shoes. The style would look good in Renjun, too. “There’s so many people, I feel overwhelmed.”

“In a good sense, or a bad sense?”

Maybe it was on account of the champagne, or the general joy, or his heart feeling light from being newly-wed, but for the first time in many years he felt connected to his father, felt as if they were two parts of a single piece. It felt good, so he leaned a little closer and squeezed his dad’s hand.

“Good. All those people dancing, laughing, playing. They can feel as happy as I’m feeling right now.”

Sir Doyoung smiled, squeezing his hand back. Jeno watched as his eyes went around the ballroom, which the first time in fifteen years was being used for an actual party.

“Speaking for myself, I’m glad… maybe _elated_ is a better word… to be able to be here for you. All three of you.”

As the night progressed, the guests got drunker, the children sleepier and taken upstairs, and the elderly retreated to their rooms. In the midst of that, Jeno was able to snatch Jaemin back from his infant enthusiasts and convince him to dance.

“Lord Grumpy is in his rooms already, calm down.”

Jaemin made a face and stepped on his toes as retaliation.

“You shouldn’t talk about him that way.”

“It’s what everyone calls him. Stop thinking,” Jeno said. Giving in, Jaemin sighed and let himself be pulled closer, so they could rest their chins on each other’s shoulder. “Where were you a year ago?”

“In college, feeling miserable. I wrote a letter so insufferable to Injun I never had the courage to post it.”

“And now?”

“If I feel any better, I’ll explode and turn into gold dust.”

It wasn’t planned, or a statement of any sorts. As naturally as the day they had sat down in front of the fire in the keeper’s cottage, Jeno turned to him and they kissed, uncaring for guests and conventions, only wrapped in the giddy excitement of having a future that belonged to themselves.

“Injunnie is coming over,” Jaemin whispered. “Don’t you think he looks pretty?”

Turning around, Jeno watched Renjun walk to them, humouring his uncles and aunts, jesting with Chenle and Jisung and his cousins as he walked by them, telling off the eldest of the Huang cousins – who looked like an oversized puppy and spoke four or five languages – for trying to touch his tiara. He looked beautiful, surrounded by his family, a little tousled from dancing the whole night with every friend and relative who was willing.

“The most beautiful, yes,” Jeno said, just as Renjun launched himself at them and wrapped his arms around Jaemin’s neck.

“Do you reckon there’s a way to dance in trio?” he asked, and both shrugged.

It wasn’t the prettiest of the dances: they were too tipsy, excited and a little tired to make it work, but they laughed at every misstep, and got people around them to join until the whole room was dancing again, even if it was over three in the morning already.

Only when Renjun admitted he could no longer feel his toes they stopped, bid their goodbyes, pinched Donghyuck for making a dirty joke in front of Jisung, and headed to their little embedded home in the East wing.

Renjun led them straight to his bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall, sat down at the vanity and started the delicate process of removing the tiara from his hair, with Jeno’s assistance. Jaemin floundered around the room, taking off his jacket, collar, and finally cufflinks.

“Stop littering my room with your things, you have your own, Nana!”

“But–”

“But nothing. Change into your– oh, thank you Jen– your pyjamas, wash up, and then come back.”

Being dismissed from his assistant role, Jeno too went into his room, took off all the fancy suit things, but stopped at his newest addition.

His father had, but never wore, a signet ring. Uncle Taeyong didn’t, either, but Mark did, something he picked up from his schoolmates. In the Seo family, though, the alphas traditionally only started wearing signets after getting married, and his uncles had surprised him early in the evening with one for himself that he had immediately put on.

The ring felt natural, as weightless as the wedding ring. His father had told him well made rings were like that. And so, even after changing, he couldn’t imagine parting with either, so he left the signet on, washed up and walked out.

Jaemin was in the hall, apparently waiting for him.

“So,” he said, and Jaemin giggled.

“So?”

“I guess we just walk in.”

They had spent so much time joking and anticipating about that moment that some – or most – of the weight of the occasion had disappeared already. Even the impatience Jeno had been feeling for the last weeks was gone, as if by magic.

Renjun was on the window seat, looking ethereal in his silk pyjamas and robe.

“I’m pretty sure what I see is Dejun and Yangyang making out by the greenhouse,” he said, looking out of the window and grimacing.

“Isn’t Yangyang supposed to be married to Xuxi?” Jaemin asked, running over to spy on them as well.

“Arranged marriage, they’re friends with matching rings. Urgh, stop looking. My cousins need to cleanse their souls.”

Jeno laughed and sat on the bed. He had no idea what to do next, and despite uncles and tutors offering advice – at least his father had kept out of it – he had chosen to let things move in their own pace.

As Renjun got up, Jaemin groaned and crumbled on the sofa.

“Would you hate me too much…” he started, flopping an arm off the seat.

“Uh?”

“If I said I’m about to fall asleep right here?”

Renjun chuckled, rubbing his eyes. He was already pulling the covers off the bed.

“Then I would say my legs and feet hurt something awful and I think I can’t move for any longer.”

Jeno went over and started dragging Jaemin to bed.

“Come along, big hammy,” he said, making Renjun laugh again.

They arranged themselves on the bed, instinctually leaving Jaemin in the middle, pushing and pulling on sheets and covers until it felt comfortable.

“Good night, husbands,” Renjun said, curling his hand around Jeno’s little finger, over the signet ring.

“Good night,” Jaemin and Jeno said in unison.

The last lamps were switched off, and in the darkness, they could see how the sky outside was turning lighter by the second, the sun rising to welcome them into a new life.

*

They woke up many hours later, and after some fumbling, were awake enough to ask for breakfast to be brought up. The train for the port was scheduled for the next day, so they had many hours to rest and gather the energy for three weeks in Rome.

Not as hungover as from Mark’s wedding, but still very tired, Jeno ate his toast and eggs and decided it wasn’t worth staying on his feet, so he curled back in bed and let his eyes close, lulled by the ebb and flow of Renjun and Jaemin conversing over the teacups.

A little later, he woke up on his own volition, relaxed and happy. Turning over, he immediately saw the other two on the sofa, curled around each other. The scene reminded him of them at the dusk of Renjun's last heat, only now under daylight, Jeno could see clearly as Renjun's fingers undid Jaemin's shirt buttons, watch Jaemin's face as he closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure.

Only now, instead of rolling over and forcing himself to ignore them, Jeno could lay there and watch them, knowing they were his, and he was theirs, and only wait for the moment they could call him to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it, folks! I hope you liked this silly story born out of my love for Edwardian aesthetics, jewellery and classic romance. Writing it was really fun - and surprisingly challenging at times. Thank you so much to those who followed it as a WIP for the encouragement, and thank you to those who read it a complete story, having an audience is a gift I appreciate every day 💚
> 
> If you can, please leave a comment, they are my favourite mementos!


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